Wolf
by Lady Lam
Summary: After getting bitten Ianto begins to change. The team learns more about who their colleague was as they rush to keep him from becoming something new.
1. Chapter 1

A large black car rolled slowly through the streets of Cardiff. Two men sat inside, staring intently out the windows, searching for something in the darkness. In silent focus they studied each alleyway they passed by, squinting as though it would somehow make things clearer. The headlights of the car reflected off the damp streets and a slight drizzle obscured their view just enough to make the surrounding buildings look soft and distorted.

"Are you sure they came through this way?" asked Jack, leaning over the steering wheel to get a better look through the windshield.

"I'm certain of it, Jack. I saw one, I know I did." Ianto held his face close enough to his window to feel the cold radiating through the seal, his breath leaving clouds of white on the glass. It was dark enough that he was having trouble seeing past his own reflection.

Jack sighed and, with a glance at his companion, pressed a button on his comm. "Tosh, we lost them. You got anything on the CCTV?"

"Sorry, Jack," came back the fuzzy reply. "But that just means they haven't come back out. They're in there somewhere."

"Maybe they crawled back down into the sewer," Ianto suggested, disappointed.

"Shit," Jack muttered, scouring the road ahead for any sign of movement. They had been out there for nearly an hour now, twenty minutes of which was spent in these dark alleys. It had been at least ten since they had last seen anything of use. He was about to call it off and head back to the hub when a figure, hunched and deformed, came lurching out in front of them. Jack held his breath and leaned forward in his seat. It turned and at the sight of its glistening teeth and beady eyes a grin crept over Jack's face. "Here we go."

The weevil took one look at them and hissed horribly before bolting down another side street. Jack hit the gas, earning a startled yelp from Ianto as he was flung against the door, and skidded after the creature. At only 10 or 20 km/h it was hardly a high-speed chase, but in the winding darkness that was the back alleys of Cardiff it set their hearts pumping and the spray of rainwater they sent kicking up behind them helped add to the visual excitement. A few more sharp turns and a pile of trashcans knocked over had them out in the open, driving down a larger road bordered by apartments on one side and the back end of a park on the other. The weevil ran, as much as a weevil can, along the pavement of the road before breaking off into the park.

The car came to a halt and the two men got out into the cold, wet night. Pulling tasers out of pockets they chased after the alien, feet slapping in grass still waterlogged from the downpour that had only recently let up. Fortunately the poor weather meant there were no civilians taking late night walks or mulling about and their pursuit went unseen by the public eye.

As they began to catch up to the beast, Jack whistled to Ianto and motioned for him to flank left while he headed right. Ianto nodded and, huffing from the exertion, put on an extra burst of speed to come even with the weevil. It noticed him and, with a frightened snarl, turned right, only to be met by Jack who was fishing the weevil spray out of his coat pocket.

The weevil stopped running and took on a defensive posture, dividing its attention between its attackers. Head low, teeth bared, it was truly a grotesque sight, but they were used to it. Ianto put his arms out to the sides, making himself appear bigger and more imposing, herding the creature towards his boss who was ready with the spray. When the weevil turned to Ianto, letting out a low growl, Jack pounced, grabbing its collar and giving it a blast of weevil spray straight to the face. It went down writhing and Ianto stepped forward tasering it into a final submission. He backed up and, trying to get control of his breathing, pressed his comm to let Tosh know they had been successful while Jack bagged and cuffed their foe.

Hand on hip, Ianto turned to Jack. "That's one down, then," he said between breaths.

Jack flashed him a grin. "Easy-peasy," he said, resting his arm on his knee. "Okay, let's get this guy to the car before the locals suspect anything and unless there are anymore problems I don't think we need to worry about the other two." He got to his feet and lifted the weevil over his shoulder with a grunt.

The two of them started back to the car. The rain had almost stopped and there were only a few drops every now and then. A mist was beginning to form in the lower regions of the park that matched the little bursts of white that came with each breath. Ianto glanced over at Jack and sighed.

"You're covered in mud. The dry cleaners are not going to have a fun time with that."

Jack looked down at his mud-soaked trousers. "Too bad, I liked these pants too." He flashed a look at Ianto that the other recognized all too well. "Does give you an excuse to take 'em off me, though."

Ianto rolled his eyes and put his hands in his pockets, but a smile crept onto his face. "Walked right into that one didn't I?"

"You're too easy," Jack laughed. "I thought I'd trained you better than this. I'll have to start working you harder."

"Would that be official training or our more 'extracurriculars'?"

"Oh, I think you know the answer to that."

Ianto moved a little closer to Jack and shivered. "It's the middle of April," he said under his breath. "I thought it was supposed to warm up by now."

"Not when you're in Cardiff." Jack shifted the weevil, freeing one arm, which he put around Ianto's shoulders. "You'll be plenty warm when we get back to the hub."

"And you'll see to that, will you?"

"I can't be the only one not wearing pants, now can I?"

When they reached the car Ianto detached himself from Jack's side and opened up the trunk. With some effort they deposited the alien in the car and Jack walked round to the driver's side while Ianto shut the door.

"Hey, do you know if we have any of those mini-pizzas left in the freezer?" Jack called over to him as he looked through his keys. "I've got a craving for something small, round and cheesy."

"I could just call out for a pizza," Ianto replied as he walked round his own side of the car. He stopped at the door and faced Jack over the roof. "It would be faster and I think we could all use something warm to eat."

Jack folded his arms on top of the car, his jacket protecting his arms from the water that had begun to pool there. "Yeah, but there's just something about microwavable foods, they have a completely different flavour to them. Something in the dough, I think."

"It's called preservatives, Jack." His boss sent him a skeptical look before stepping back and opening the door.

"You know this whole thing people have against preservatives, I don't get it. If people knew about all the chemicals the government has pumping through the water supply they'd be a lot less concerned about a few extra-"

Jack's thought was cut short by a shape, big and dark, shooting out of the side road and slamming straight into Ianto. The Welshman went down with a shout, the momentum of the shape throwing him up onto the edge of where the sidewalk met the grass, disappearing behind the SUV and out of Jack's line of sight.

"Ianto!" Jack shouted, slamming his door closed and running around the car to find the archivist struggling underneath a large, black animal, a combination of growls and cries of pain being their response. He pulled out his taser and was close enough to the creature to incapacitate it when it noticed him and turned. There was a flash of yellow and red, teeth or eyes, he couldn't tell, before it took off and vanished between two dilapidated buildings across the street.

Jack knelt down, knees soaking through immediately. "Ianto! Ianto can you hear me?" He put his hands on Ianto's shoulders to get his attention, but instead elicited a howling scream. Pulling his hands away he found one of them to be slick with blood. "Oh God."

.oOo.

Owen leaned back in his chair, bored. With a lazy glance around the hub he sighed loudly. "Need something to do, Owen?" Tosh asked from where she was standing, engrossed in something on her monitor that looked suspiciously mathy.

"If what you're suggesting involves anything to do with paperwork, programming or cleaning then no, thank you, I'm quite busy right now." He cast a look over to Gwen who was sitting at her own station filling out paperwork on some alien or other, looking equal parts bored and distant. "What's all the paperwork for anyways?" he continued. "Who actually reads it because I can bet you anything Jack doesn't even look at it, just sends it straight to the archives."

"Protocol, Owen," Gwen said without looking up. "We need a record of the things we do for the government or else we're just firing our guns randomly at some strange looking people in the street."

Owen nodded, chewing his lip thoughtfully. After a brief silence he spoke again. "Do you think Ianto's ever looked at our personnel files while he's down there in the archives alone? 'Cause I can tell you right now, that's what I would do. Probably a lot of interesting stuff written up in boxes down there. Bet each of us has got more than a few dirty little secrets." He nudged the back of Gwen's chair with his foot and grinned wickedly at her. The look quickly changed however as he was struck with an idea. "In fact," he said, "I'll bet you we can find out more down there about Harkness than that man would ever let on." He hopped off his chair and started eagerly towards the archives while he coworkers weakly protested.

He was stopped in his tracks, however, by Jack's voice over the comms. "Owen!" he said, obviously excited over something.

"Hello Jack," Owen said, a little disappointed, pacing back over to the girls who were watching him with diluted interest. "I hope you're coming back because if I have to spend one more second-"

"Owen, listen to me," Jack interrupted. "Ianto's been hurt, badly, we need the stretcher. I'll tell you what happened when we get there, but he's going to need stitches. Gwen? Tosh?"

"Yes, Jack," Gwen replied, suddenly alive with concern, ready for anything.

"I need the two of you to meet us with Owen. We've got a weevil in the back. He's subdued, but I don't know for how much longer."

"Yes, Jack," she repeated, jogging over to join Owen in the medi-bay where he was pulling a box of supplies out on the counter, "We're on our way."

"We'll be there in five," Jack told them before turning off the comm.

"Still bored, Owen?" Tosh asked, grabbing her coat as she hurried over to the door that would take them to the underground car park.

"Not on your life."

Five minutes later the SUV pulled up to where the team was waiting, stretcher at the ready. Jack got out and sped over to the passenger side, where he opened the door to reveal Ianto, barely conscious and obviously dealing with some serious blood loss.

"Weevil's in the back. Get it to the Vaults, we'll handle this" Jack told the girls as he reached an arm around their colleague to heave him out of the car.

"Oh my god, what happened," Tosh asked, she and the others staring stunned at Ianto's injuries. His coat had been torn across the chest and stomach, and he was bleeding profusely from the shoulder.

"Must've been one hell of a weevil," Gwen exclaimed.

Owen helped Jack get him onto the stretcher with a moan. He looked up at their boss, a small amount of fear in his eyes. "These don't look like weevil injuries to me. Jack, what happened?"

Jack waved Gwen and Tosh to the back of the car as he said, "You're right, they're not, but I'll explain what happened _after_ we stop Ianto bleeding to death. Okay?"

"Right."

As Tosh and Gwen took care of the alien, Owen hurried Ianto into the hub, Jack following close behind. When they reached the medi-bay they carefully moved him over to the sterile table. Owen pushed the stretcher out of the way and began to work on undoing the remaining buttons on Ianto's coat. "Ianto, I need to take off your coat and jacket. It might hurt, but I need to you stay with me, you understand?"

The man grimaced and nodded weakly.

"Right," Owen said, freeing the last of the buttons. "Jack, I need you to help me with this." With a great deal of effort they sat Ianto up and removed his coat and then his jacket. Owen silently cursed Ianto's formal dress as they removed his waistcoat as well; too many layers, simply not practical for fieldwork. The further down they got in the layers the larger and brighter the spread of red across his torso became, almost entirely consuming his blue dress shirt. The scratches across his chest and stomach reached down through the shirt, but Owen quickly confirmed that they were only superficial. The real concern was Ianto's shoulder where the cloth of his shirt appeared to have a series of puncture holes that reached deep into the archivist's flesh, blood pouring out of them at an alarming rate. Owen cursed sharply, out loud this time.

"I need to know what did this, Jack," he said as he started cutting away the fabric around the wounds. Ianto's eyes were beginning to sag. "Hey." Owen patted his face and his eyes lazily opened again. "Don't give up on me yet, teaboy, we're not finished here. Jack, what was it, tell me."

"I don't know, it was dark," Jack said in a rush of words. "I think it was a dog? It was huge though, maybe a-a…" He breathed out heavily in a whoosh, thinking. "I don't know. It was dog-like, but bigger than any dog I've ever seen."

"Was it visibly frothing at the mouth?"

"Not that I could see, but there was a lot of blood and, as I said, it was pretty dark out there, I could hardly tell it had a mouth."

Tosh and Gwen appeared at the rails overlooking the bay, out of breath from running. "Jack, what's going on? What happened?" Gwen asked, clearly terrified.

"Ianto was attacked by a dog," Owen told her in a voice that suggested he didn't quite believe it as he pressed Jack's hand down on a thick fold of gauze over the shoulder wound. "Keep pressure on that," he muttered even as the cloth soaked through with red.

"What kind of dog could do this?" Gwen asked.

"I don't know, I didn't get a good look at it," Jack told her, most of his attention on keeping Ianto awake and staunching the blood oozing from his flesh.

"Is he going to be okay, Owen?" Tosh asked as Gwen made her way down the ramp to stand at Ianto's other side.

"I don't know," Owen replied though gritted teeth. "These cuts on his chest aren't as bad as they look, it's those puncture wounds on his shoulder I'm worried about." He looked up at Jack. "It looks as though he's been bitten."

Jack shrugged helplessly. "Could have been. I didn't really see what happened, the SUV was in the way."

"His head is bleeding over here too," Gwen told Owen. After a cursory look at it he handed her some materials to clean it, priority on cleaning the shoulder.

"He landed pretty hard on the sidewalk, that's probably where that one came from," Jack told her, resting his hand on Ianto's forehead on the premise that he was wiping the sweat from the young man's brow. But his hand lingered and Gwen gave him what she hoped was a consoling glance.

"Possible concussion," Owen muttered to himself and directed Jack down towards Ianto's hip so he could get at his shoulder more easily. Jack took Ianto's hand as the doctor worked, handing him things when he needed them. Though he tried to hide it it was obvious he was worried. Tosh took up residence opposite him and placed her hand over Ianto's forearm, watching Jack carefully.

"Jack?" Owen said carefully, eyes flitting between him and his hands hard at work to stop the blood. "Jack, I need you to clean those scratches, okay? They aren't too bad, but we don't need them getting infected." Jack nodded, reluctantly letting go of his colleague's hand to get to work.

After what felt like hours of work Owen sat back and pulled off his gloves. "I think he'll be fine," he told Jack who was standing opposite, watching Ianto's sleeping features. "He'll need rabies shots just to be safe and some pretty strong painkillers, but I don't think there should be any problems. Plenty of rest and he'll be fine."

"Thanks, Owen," Jack said without looking up. "Tosh, Gwen, you two should go home. It's late, you need sleep." Gwen was sitting on the ramp behind Jack and Tosh was in a chair by the computers looking worried. They both were tired, the kind that came with too many emotions in too short a period of time, but neither really wanted to leave.

"Is there anything else you need us to do before we go, Jack?" Gwen asked softly.

"Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow." He turned to look at each of them in turn. "Go on," he insisted. "Owen said he'll be fine. Can't have you all exhausted when you come in and have to suffer through my crappy coffee."

Tosh stood from her chair and walked over to where Gwen was sitting, pausing to gently touch the top of Ianto's head, mindful of the bandage that had been taped over the scrape just above his temple. He didn't react, soundly knocked out by the drugs Owen had pumped into him. Tosh reached Gwen and helped her to her feet. The two women muttered their goodbyes before leaving the bay and then the hub.

"Can he be moved?" Jack asked Owen.

Owen nodded slowly. "I think that should be fine. But I don't know where we can put him. We can't exactly carry him down the ladder to your bunk and the couch is hardly suitable."

"There's a bed in a room down that hall," Jack said, pointing to a door next to the door that led to the archives.

"What, really?" Owen asked, a little annoyed. "That could have come in handy a few times. Jesus, this place just seems to keep getting bigger."

With great care they transferred Ianto to the new bed. It being late, Jack sent Owen home and, after instructions on how and when to change their friend's bandages, he agreed, leaving his boss and young friend alone in the hub. Jack spent the night in a chair in the room with Ianto, cleaning sweat off his brow and changing his bandages when they began to soak through with blood and sweat.

At some point, late in the night, Ianto woke up in a state of confusion and asked for water. By the time Jack got back with the water Ianto had passed out again. Setting the mug (it was all he could find) of water on a table by the bed, Jack sat down again, taking Ianto's hand in his own. Smiling a little and rubbing a thumb over the back of his more-than-friend's hand, Jack let out a sad laugh. "Can't have one normal night, can we?"

There was no response. He didn't expect there to be. And there was no response until Ianto woke up late the following afternoon.

* * *

A/N: I wasn't planning on uploading this tonight, I wanted to get more done on it first, but I think I need the motivation - LL

I don't own Torchwood


	2. Chapter 2

There is something to be said for the persistence of Ianto Jones.

"Ianto, go home," Jack called out from his office once the cog door had closed.

"Sorry, sir," Ianto called back as he made his way up the stair to the coffee and espresso machines, feet clanging on the mesh. "I've been gone long enough, it's time to be getting back to work."

Pulling out the ingredients to prepare the coffee he heard the slapping of feet running quickly from the opposite end of the hub and across the concrete floor below. Up the stairs they came, two at a time, pausing only at the end of the walkway where Ianto was situated. He turned to find Owen standing there looking a mix of confused, annoyed and slightly out of breath. "What are you doing here?" asked the doctor. "Two weeks I said. Didn't I say two weeks?"

"He did say two weeks," Gwen called up from her place on the couch below them.

"Thank you, Gwen. At least somebody in here listens to me. I wanted you to stay home for three, but I let you whittle me down to two because at the time, for some reason beyond my comprehension I thought two might be enough. Two weeks. And how long has it been?"

"One week," Ianto replied, pressing buttons on the machine that began its percolations. "But I don't think-"

"It's been one week," Owen interrupted. "I said two and it's been one. Go home, Jones."

"I feel fine." He pushed past Owen and started down the stairs, on his way to feed the inhabitants of the vaults.

"I'm the doctor, I tell you when you're fine," Owen exclaimed, following closely behind. "And you're not fine. You should be resting; you almost died last week. You lost a lot of blood."

"And I made more. And I've still got the sling on," Ianto argued, turning to Owen so he could gesture to his restricted limb, "so I'm not exactly using it am I?"

"Give it up, Owen," Gwen said with a laugh as they passed by. "That man is almost as stubborn as Jack."

"He certainly hasn't been a very good influence," Owen muttered bitterly.

"Who to whom?" Tosh asked, obviously amused.

"Both to each other," Owen said, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Now can you please go home and get some rest!"  
"Oh, using the 'p' word now. He's really desperate," Gwen joked.

"Honestly, I'm honoured," Ianto replied. "Almost makes me wish I wasn't going to completely ignore him." With a smug grin he turned on his heel and started walking again. Owen made a noise at the back of his throat that sounded like it was painful.

"Okay, fine, you're here," he spat. "But since you're here, before you do anything else, I'm invoking my rank as a physician and am ordering you to the medi bay for a check-up."

Ianto stopped in a manner that suggested he was rolling his eyes dramatically. With a sigh and a raising of his free hand he said, "Fine," and made his way to the alcove that housed Owen's station, muttering angrily to himself as he went. Sending a satisfied smile to Tosh, Owen followed him there.

With a little more effort than usual, Ianto heaved himself up onto the examination table where he pulled off the suit jacket that he was only able to wear properly on one side and then, after removing his tie (he hadn't been able to get a waistcoat on that day), began unbuttoning his shirt. Owen snapped on a pair of gloves using what Ianto suspected was a little more zeal than was absolutely necessary and helped his patient pull the shirt and then the bandages gingerly off his still fresh wound.

Or… no, it should have been fresh, but to Owen's great surprise the bite looked as though it had undergone significantly more than a week's worth of healing. "That's odd," Owen said under his breath.

"What?" Ianto asked, twisting his head awkwardly to get a better look at his shoulder.

Jack jogged up to the railing. "What's odd?" he asked with a smile, leaning his elbows on the rail.

"Sensed someone taking their shirt off, did you?" Owen asked wryly. He sighed and waved his hand at Ianto's shoulder sharply as he said, "This wound is almost completely healed. Much more than one week of healing. I'd say maybe a month or so, but that's impossible."

Jack's smile turned into an intrigued frown and he skidded down the ramp to get a closer look. "Well," he said, leaning in close, "That _is_ odd."

"But isn't it a good thing, though?" Ianto asked, a little uncomfortable with the proximity of the two men who were both deeply focused and had their faces much closer than he would have liked. "The faster I heal the sooner I can get back to work."

"What about the cuts on his chest?" Jack asked Owen, ignoring Ianto's question.

Owen undid the last of Ianto's shirt buttons and pulled it open. He carefully peeled back the bandages taped to the young man's torso, earning a hiss from him. "These seem fine," Owen said. "Well, at least, healing at a proper rate." He looked up at Jack who was making a face at the sight of the half-scabbed scratch marks. "Looks like it's just the bite."

"What does this mean?" Ianto asked.

"I don't know," Owen admitted, peeling the bandage completely off the reddened skin, taking the opportunity to clean and redress the cuts. "I've never see anything like this, have you Jack?"

"Can't say that I have," Jack replied, still frowning at the angry flesh on Ianto's stomach and chest. The scratches hadn't needed stitches, they were fairly shallow, but they were still incredibly painful, especially considering their location. Owen had decided that they were most likely from the dog's claws. Really big claws. Massive claws. But claws nonetheless and both they and the bite were in the middle of treatment for rabies just in case.

"Well I guess that's something to be proud of: accomplishing something Captain Jack Harkness has never seen before."

"Seems to happen a lot round here," Owen quipped.

Jack cast him a look. "Are you trying to say something about me?"

"No idea what you mean, Captain," he said, too busy with his task to come up with a better comeback. "Now, I've taken some samples from both locations for testing, to see if there are any anomalies in your blood, pus, whatever. Hopefully we'll have this figured out before too long and we'll know if it's something we should be concerned about. In the meantime," he said a little louder, straightening up, "I think it would benefit all of us if you two could try to remember what exactly it was that attacked you, so we have at least a little context for how worried we should be about bacterial infections. That was a nasty fever you had for a while and it would be helpful to rule out species-specific viruses and infections from our list of suspect causes."

He plastered one last strip of medical tape over the bandage on Ianto's shoulder before dismissing the two of them. Ianto pulled his shirt back closed as they left the bay and fiddled with the buttons for a bit before giving up on any sense of dignity in his appearance. "What do we do now?" he asked Jack, taking his jacket and tie back from the Captain and draping them over his good arm.

"Exactly what Owen said to do: we need to figure out what that thing was that bit you. Tosh!"

Tosh swiveled in her seat, eyebrows raised in question.

"Look through that video footage from last week, you know the one. See if you can figure out what that dog thing was. Go frame by frame if you have to."

"Yes, Jack," Tosh called back, turning to her computer to pull up the CCTV from their surveillance archives.

"We'll be in my office," Jack told her, steering Ianto up the steps. "Just come right in if you find anything."

The two men entered the office, closing the door behind them. Ianto draped his jacket over a chair while Jack leaned back on his desk and watched him. "Now, I know we've gone over this already, but do you remember anything – _anything_ about what happened that night?"

"I remember a bit more now than I did," Ianto told him, taking a seat in the chair, but standing up again when Jack didn't sit down in his own. "It's still not much, though."

"Walk me through it," Jack instructed him.

"We had caught the weevil," Ianto began, his words slowing as he went. "You carried it back to the van and put it in the boot. Then you made some comment about… mini pizzas I think. For whatever reason. And I was saying something to you about… I don't know, something, and then I opened the door of the car. But I didn't make it in, something ran into me from the side and I hit the ground really hard, bashing my head on the edge of the sidewalk. Things get a little bleary after that," he said apologetically.

"That's fine, keep going," Jack insisted, giving Ianto an incredibly intense look that only came out when Jack was very serious about something.

Ianto avoided the look, choosing instead to try buttoning up his shirt again as he spoke. "There was something on top of me. It was big and black and hairy and very sharp. I tried to fight it off and get up, but it was very strong. I had both my hands on its neck, or I think that was its neck, but it scratched me and I let go. When I let go, it bit me. It's teeth were so big, Jack," he said, looking up with renewed fear in his eyes. "I do remember that. Its teeth were huge and yellow, but after it bit me they were red too. And its eyes. They were like nothing I'd ever seen."

Jack moved to stand nearer to Ianto, putting a comforting hand on his good shoulder. He looked Ianto in the eyes, but Ianto looked down again, not comfortable with being so exposed. "Its eyes were yellow, too," Ianto said, voice full of false brevity. "But they were a different kind of yellow. Amber, I guess. They were definitely dog's eyes though, I've seen enough dogs to know that." His shaking fingers slipped on a button and he cursed softly.

With another concerned look, Jack ran his hand down Ianto's arm, giving his hand a squeeze before taking the shirt button from him and putting it in the corresponding hole. "Do you remember anything else about it?" he asked, moving onto the next button.

"Not much," Ianto told him as he watched his hands work. They were standing so close. He swallowed back the emotions that seemed to sprout up from nowhere, there were too many and he needed to be coherent right now. "I remember that it had yellow teeth and amber dog eyes and lots of black fur, but that's about it. It was a little difficult to see what with all the terror and concussed-ness of the situation. I do think it was a dog, though. But I've never seen a dog like it."

"Neither have I," Jack said.

There was a knock at the door.

"Tosh?" Ianto suggested.

"No, I told her she could come in if she found anything. It's open!" he called to their visitor, looking up only to see who it was.

Gwen walked in, paperwork in her hands and concern in her features that quickly shifted to surprise and a bit of embarrassment at the intimate feeling of the room. "Sorry to interrupt," she stated, "I'll come back later."

"No, it's fine, come in," Jack said, finishing the last few buttons. He looked up at her expectantly as he reached for Ianto's tie. "What is it, Gwen?"

She held up the papers and stepped in a little further. "Just dropping these off and wondering if, um, there's anything I can do for the whole," she waved her hand vaguely, "dog thing."

Jack draped the tie around Ianto's neck and evened it out. "You," he said, "Can go over police and hospital records. See if there have been any reports about dog attacks like this one in the past few months. Let's see if we can track this thing down to its origin. When Tosh finishes with the CCTV get her to help you, but make sure she comes to me first with her results."

"Okay," she said, dropping the paperwork on Jack's desk. "Is there anything out of the ordinary that I should look for in the records?" she asked, lingering in the doorway. "Dog bites are pretty common, it would help to narrow the focus and you three were down in the medical bay for a while. Is there something I should know about?"

Jack glanced at her, looking a little uncomfortable. "Ianto's bite is healing extraordinarily fast," he told her, pulling the tie's knot firmly into place. "Records might show fevers, quick healing and oversized teeth." He smiled at his handiwork before turning his attention fully to Gwen. "That should be everything, but don't limit your search to those parameters; we don't know that those aren't specific to just this case."

"Okay, I'll see what I can find," Gwen replied. She cast a quick smile to Ianto before leaving and closing the door behind her.

"She seemed a little odd," Ianto commented, straightening his tie distractedly.

"Yeah, well she's worried about you," Jack told him. He picked up the suit jacket from the chair and held it out the way Ianto would always held Jack's coat out for him. "We all are."

Ianto accepted the jacket, slipping his one arm through the sleeve and pulling the other side over his immobile shoulder. "I wish you wouldn't be, it's just a dog. It's not like I haven't been bitten by worse."

"It's a lot easier to be worried about other people than it is to be worried for yourself," Jack told him, resuming his position leaning against the desk. "Believe me, I know. And how the hell did you ever manage to dress yourself this morning with all those buttons and just one hand?"

Ianto smiled. "With a lot of perseverance and a great deal of swearing. I was late for a reason."

"Maybe you should get someone else to dress you tomorrow. Preferably after undressing you."

Ianto laughed. "Would that I could, but doctor tells me I need rest." He laughed again when Jack pouted and then excused himself, saying the inmates wouldn't feed themselves. Jack made a crack about Owen getting cranky when he was hungry before giving Ianto a quick kiss, which he intended to be comforting but came off as more playful, before the archivist left the office.

With a sigh, Jack picked up the paperwork Gwen had left him and rounded the desk to his chair. Feet up, he read over the typed sheets, but his mind was somewhere very far away.

* * *

A/N

A little shorter than chapter 1 but don't worry, things are about to take off. I just finished reading Consequences (the whole book, not just the story). I had forgotten how frightening Ianto can be when he wants to be and it certainly gave me the kick in the pants to get on with this fic. -LL


	3. Chapter 3

A short meeting made it clear that their search had been fruitless. Tosh told them that the footage she had gone over was useless; it was so dark and the recording so low quality that the shape of the dog could barely be made out, and the SUV was in the way when it was attacking resulting in no real clear shot that even her technical skills could make usable. Gwen revealed that for the past six months there had been no significant increase in dog attacks, no odd wounds that healed faster than they were supposed to and no giant dogs spotted in the city of Cardiff. Owen added that what samples he had examined seemed normal as far as he could tell, a minor virus near the bite, but nothing the antivirals couldn't handle and certainly nothing that could be causing increased healing abilities. And he was very careful to make clear his belief that this had all been a colossal waste of time.

Jack conceded that this wasn't the most pressing of matters and it would take a seat on the backburner while they dealt with more immediate rift activity. But something about this just didn't add up and the absence of oddities in their research only seemed to enhance his deep interest and concern. "That was no ordinary dog," he said with conviction, "and it wouldn't surprise me if this _was_ rift activity."

They elected to continue to observe Ianto's progress and take periodic tissue and blood samples to monitor for abnormalities, and keep an eye on police lines for any other dog related assaults. Beyond that, there wasn't much else they could do.

Ianto kept quiet through the meeting, observing the meeting from his spot at the table, but never contributing. His hands held tightly to a mug of coffee he didn't drink and there was an odd stillness about him. After the meeting had finished Jack caught up with him in the hall and spoke softly to him, but the others could not make out what was said. Owen thought they were being a little overly dramatic, but Tosh and Gwen defended them, saying it had been a traumatic experience and they had every right to be concerned. Even Owen had to admit this was intriguing. It wasn't every day something like this happened (every few weeks maybe, but it had been a while) and with Torchwood you could never be too careful.

The next blood test showed the virus had been eradicated, the antivirals having done quick work with it, and Owen believed that the fever he had observed in Ianto had just been a symptom of it. His shoulder healed quickly enough that the sling was soon removed and bandages followed shortly after. The tooth marks left shiny white scars that dotted and streaked like a stencil across the collarbone and circling around to the top of his shoulder blade. By the end of two weeks the rabies treatment was finished and at three weeks the scratches had mostly healed as well, but his movement was still limited by stiff skin and scabs. If he was uncomfortable or in pain he didn't let it show.

The search for answers had all but been forgotten as newer and more exciting rift events took priority. A group of particularly vicious weevils were captured and vaulted, and a few pieces of unrecognizably degraded technology were collected and sealed away for later dissection. But it was four weeks after the incident that a horrifying discovery was made by a local fisherman.

While setting up his boat at the dock for some early morning fishing a body was found entangled in his nets with a large part of its hip and waist missing. The police set to work on the case immediately, but were soon pushed aside by Torchwood as it was set in their records that the hole in the poor woman was edged by burns that appeared to have cauterized the flesh almost instantly. The filters in the Hub's computer recognized it as a side effect of an energy weapon blast at a very close range, not something the police would ever be able to identify.

The case became a mission as Tosh informed the team that there had been sightings of a blowfish in the area sporting a rather large gun and they set off that afternoon to hunt the alien down. Tosh remained behind being charged with the duty of hacking into police files to make the matter go away and to send the media a reasonable conclusion to the drama before it could be picked up into something more in depth. Ianto, in turn, was given the task of taking care of the fisherman (with the help of a bottle of retcon) and retrieving the body from police custody with the help of Tosh's technical adjustments to police protocol.

This left Jack, Gwen and Owen to find the blowfish itself and take it down.

It took them several hours to locate the alien and once they did it became obvious that it was not going to be brought down easily. The fish appeared to be extremely manic; Owen's scans showing high levels of PCP and trace amounts of cocaine. Its hands were jittery and quick to pull the oversized weapon that had presumably been used to kill the poor girl at the docks.

Jack stood on the walkway with his Webley held out in front of him and aimed at the anthropomorphic blowfish who was returning the gesture with his own weapon. They had been frozen in place for the past ten minutes with Gwen and Owen standing a reasonable distance away, terrified to move lest they unintentionally prompt the pull of a trigger. There was enough tension in the air to play it like a guitar.

"Just take a deep breath and calm down," Jack said in as soothing a voice as he could muster. "We don't want to hurt you, we just want to help. Get you back home."

The alien hissed out a laugh before rasping out, "Bullshit, I know exactly who you are. Not one goddam fish in the city doesn't know Torchwood. You want to get me home as much as I want to go home."

"Now look mate," Owen said. The blowfish turned the gun on the doctor before swinging it back around to Jack making all three Torchwood members flinch. "Look," he tried again, softer, "why don't you just put down the gun and we'll put down our gun and we can handle this peacefully."

"We don't need any trouble here," Gwen joined in. She had her hands raised and was desperately trying to remember her police training, but under such stress and pressure she found it to be impossible. It had been ages and it wasn't like she had ever even been in this type of situation even on the force. "What can we do to make you feel more comfortable here? Do you want us to put down the gun?"

"I want you to shut up!" he shouted.

"Okay," Gwen mouthed and moved back a little.

The gun snapped around to her and she froze. "Hey!" the blowfish bellowed. "Don't do that, just stay put where I can see you."

Jack glanced at Gwen uneasily. He was beginning to sweat. "Okay, no need to bring anyone else into this," he tried. "Why don't you let my friends go and you and I can have a little talk on our own?"

The fish seemed to consider this as he looked between his three foes jerkily, a hesitant smile twitching at the corners of his bared mouth. His hands twitched and Jack swallowed, trying his best not to move. "He can go," he finally said. "But she stays. I like her."

Jack nodded and Owen gave one terrified look to Gwen before retreating to a safer location beyond some crates where he could watch without being in any real danger. He received a quick check from Jack before the Captain turned his attention once again to their drugged up enemy.

"Thank you," he said. "I appreciate that a lot."

The gun was still pointed at Gwen and that made Jack infinitely more frightened than when it had been pointed at him. He would have to be careful. One wrong move could mean the end of his newest employee and he was not ready to explain that to Rhys.

Owen peered around the crates. He felt shaky to say the least and it looked like the Captain was making little headway. "Tosh," he spoke into the Comm. "Do us a favour and check out the CCTV by the Taff roundabouts-" He glanced around for a street sign. "…Llanbradach. Tell me if you see anything useful."

There was a pause and then, "This doesn't look good, Owen."

"You're telling me. Any way I can get round behind him without him seeing?"

"Give me a moment." There was the sound of keys. Owen checked on his friends again. Jack was holding his hands in the air as well now. The blowfish seemed unimpressed.

"Hurry up Tosh," Owen murmured.

"There's only so many cameras," she admonished, "and it's not like your in a very good location to begin with."

Owen racked his mind for a solution. "Check some schematics then, use some satellites, do whatever it is you do."

"Oh," she exclaimed. "There's a way you can get around by the-"

She was cut off by a rather loud bang. Owen flung himself around the crates to be shoved aside by the blowfish making a speedy escape. Gwen followed close behind shouting, "It shot Jack!"

Owen cursed and ran as quickly as he could over to where his boss was lying unconscious on the ground. There was a clear hole in his lower ribcage that, like the girl on the docks, had been burned and cauterized. Checking for a pulse Owen swore again when he found none. Not unconscious then.

"Jack is dead," he said into the Comm thickly. God, he would never get used to this.

"Then there's nothing you can do there," Gwen replied. She was almost shouting, but even at that volume it was clear the news upset her. "I need you with me," she told him. "Leave Jack, he'll be fine."

The doctor cast a look down to his fallen Captain and reluctantly agreed. Jack would wake up. The next person the alien shot would not be so lucky. So he picked himself up and followed Gwen down the street.

The two of them managed to corner the creature and take him down with considerable effort. Gwen waited with her gun trained on the unconscious fish while Owen retrieved the car and they put it inside. They swung back around to where they had left Jack and found him getting shakily to his feet.

"Did you get the gun?" he asked. Leaning against a wall he was pale and hazy.

"The gun and the blowfish," Gwen informed him. She took his arm over her shoulder and looked down to where his clothes had been burned away. His skin was angry and red, but back where it was supposed to be. "You're coat's ruined," she told him, the only thing she could think to say.

Jack flashed a weak smile. "Ianto's not gonna like that."

"Forget the coat, are you okay," Owen said from under his other arm.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Jack assured them, though he sounded a little out of I, but regaining his clear head slowly. He leaned heavily on their shoulders as they helped him to the SUV. When he was seated in the passenger's seat he looked down at his healing abdomen. "Stings a bit, though. Never liked energy guns, a little too Star Trek for me." He lightly brushed a finger over his new skin and hissed. "A little too effective too."

By the time they got back to the Hub his flesh was solid and pink. He sauntered through the door with no trouble and left Gwen and Owen to take care of the blowfish to their distress. He himself brought in the gun, which he presented to a joyous Tosh with a bow like a butler to a Queen. In spite of herself, Tosh laughed and graciously took the weapon. It was big, as they had noted before, with a single barrel that ballooned out like that of a musket only much much larger. It was made of a dark metal that seemed almost otherworldly and may very well have been, and Tosh was delighted to have it in her possession.

Ianto had returned a short while before they had and bemoaned the singed holes in Jack's clothing. At the news that Jack had died for those holes Ianto took on a softer demeanor and promised to see what he could do about the coat.

It was getting late, the hunt having taken longer than expected and Gwen and Owen were eager to head home and rest after such a stressful evening (although the doctor likely had other unsaid plans). Tosh was far more reluctant, wanting to stay and tinker with her newest toy, but Jack insisted she go saying the gun would be there when she got back. He himself would be staying in his office for quite a while catching up on the reports that had gone un-read while they were out.

It seemed, however, that they would continue to go unread. A gentle knock at his open door caught his attention and he found Ianto standing there, waiting for an invitation in. Jack granted it to him and the young man entered, a slight swagger in his step as he approached the desk. _I'm rubbing off on him_ , Jack thought with a smirk.

"Tosh is happy with her new toy," Ianto observed. "I almost had to carry her out the door."

Jack laughed. "Was she still here after I sent her home?"

"Just left. She insisted on running a few scans on it beforegoing. I managed to convince her to let the scans run overnight. Haven't seen her this excited in a while."

"It's an interesting piece of weaponry," Jack agreed. He swung his feet up on the desk and prepared to launch into a story. "I remember once, I was on the planet Bixody, don't remember the century, I was toe to toe with this guy, good looking fella, had the nastiest scar though, I don't know where he was keeping the gun-"

"Do I really want to be hearing this?"

"Hm, depends." He grinned. "How into musical westerns are you?"

Ianto rolled his eyes. "I swear you must make up at least ninety percent of the things you tell us just for kicks. Yours is an amazingly creative mind, I'll give you that."

"Ninety percent," Jack scoffed. "You underestimate my ability to get into strange and unusual situations, Mr. Jones."

"I honestly shouldn't be. You yourself are strange and unusual, but I wouldn't put it past you to sneak in a few fake ones every now and then just to see if we'll notice."

"Gotta keep you on your toes. Can't have Torchwood going soft." Scooting his chair back, Jack crossed the room to pour himself a scotch. Ianto accepted a glass of his own and took a satisfying sip. It was good stuff, no wonder Jack kept it locked up in his office.

"But what is that gun anyways?" Ianto asked, swirling the drink lazily in its glass. "I've never seen anything like it before, not even in the archives."

"You'll have to wait until tomorrow at the briefing," Jack told him with a good-natured finger-wag. "Tosh would be furious if I told anyone before her."

Ianto watched the amber liquid loll up the sides of the glass as he sent it in circles, the light from the lamp catching it just so. It sent reflections of gold onto his pale face and Jack couldn't help but stare. "Always keeping me in suspense, eh Captain?"

He looked up forcing Jack to look down at his own drink. "It comes with the whole dark and mysterious package," he said with a flashed grin and a low laugh.

"Not so mysterious with all those stories you keep telling us," Ianto threw back. "I could probably put together a timeline of your life using just the sexual exploits alone."

Jack had to hold back a snigger as he muttered into his scotch, "sexploits," and took another sip. "And I do have secrets, you know," he said suddenly, "I am a very mysterious man."

"Oh, like what? You can peel an orange with your toes and eat whole ghost peppers without tearing up?"

"Well, it seems I _don't_ have any secrets from you after all." He poured himself a second helping and another into Ianto's extended glass. "I'll have to up my mysterious game."

Ianto smiled to himself and took a sip.

"What are you grinning about?" Jack asked through a reflected grin.

"Nothing," Ianto told him warmly. "It's just been a while since we've been… casual like this."

"I know what you mean, the Rift has been busy lately."

"Not even that," Ianto continued. "I just feel like…" He trailed off and lost himself in the glass again. Jack loved that look: the faraway smile, the half-lidded eyes, the pure contentedness of the whole image. He knew what Ianto meant, too, even if he didn't say it. Things had felt stressed of late, even the most mundane of chores, and they hadn't been given much time to relax and unwind like they were doing now. It didn't seem like they ever did.

But it was rare moments like these; these little intimate banters that made them both feel… better. There was no other way to describe it, just better. It felt like a cure-all for everything Torchwood and somehow these moments had been offset of late. It was nice to be getting back into one. It was the normalcy, he thought, that strengthened the feeling. Torchwood was no place for normal, but talking about nothing over drinks in a dimly lit room like this felt incredibly normal. And Jack didn't get a lot of normal. He suspected his young friend didn't either.

He smiled softly. "I know."

"I've missed you," Ianto admitted quietly.

Jack's smile grew and he set down his drink. Taking Ianto's face into his hand he said, "I've missed you too." He leaned in for a kiss and soon Ianto was standing with him, their bodies pressed close, hands on backs among other, more intimate places, places. They quickly lost themselves in one another in a completely different way, something they hadn't done in quite some time.

Oh yes, Jack had missed this: the feeling of Ianto hands on him, the taste of Ianto, the sound of Ianto's… cell phone. Ianto broke off to glance down at the screen leaving Jack leaning forward, eyes closed and lips still tingling. He hit a button and tossed the phone onto the floor behind him, returning to the passionate embrace with fervor.

"Don't you need to get that?" Jack breathed between kisses, hoping against hope he wouldn't pick up. He could feel Ianto's hands on his belt and began working on the Welshman's waistcoat eagerly.

"It's just Tosh," he said breathlessly, finishing with Jack's belt and removing his own Jacket. "She can wait."

Hands fumbled with buttons, cloth and knots until they stood mostly naked with their bodies impossibly attracted like two magnets pulling at each other. Ianto turned them around and steered them towards the couch that sat in the office where they collapsed onto one another. The phone began ringing again as he pressed kisses along Jack's jawline.

"You should probably get that," Jack gasped and he tangled his fingers deeper into his lover's hair. "It could be important."

"Later," Ianto growled. Jack didn't argue, didn't want to. He could feel Ianto's heart pounding against his chest and his own heart was racing as well; it wasn't a moment he wanted to stop. Their mouths collided for one sweet second before Ianto began to move down, trailing kisses down his neck and chest. The build-up was always the best part. Well, aside from the obvious of course.

On the small couch there wasn't much space, but this wasn't the first time it had been used in this manner. There was one particularly memorable time when they had thought the Hub to be empty only to have Owen wander in without knocking. It had taken weeks before they could be around one another without the acerbic doctor casting them a disgusted glare and losing his appetite immediately. Meals had been tense and amusing occasions. The teasing afterwards had been merciless however; Jack had almost drowned in the cutting remarks shared between Owen and the archivist.

Tonight, however, the Hub was definitely empty and their horrible habit of being interrupted would not prevail against their intentions. Ianto would not be going home, that was for sure. Unless something irritating and distracting were to happen like his damn phone ringing again.

Jack and Ianto both sighed and dropped their heads, one onto the armrest the other onto the former's exposed chest. Ianto cursed under his shaky breath before reaching down to grab the mobile from its resting place on the floor, free arm holding tightly to Jack's shoulder to prevent him from rolling off entirely. "Hello," he answered wearily. Still lying on top of Jack, propped up with arm and elbow against chest, he carried out a full conversation as his cushion waited impatiently.

"No, it's fine, you're not interrupting," he carried on. "Yes, I'm sure… I think so… Well, why didn't you just call him? … I'm busy too… You're not, it's just…" He blew out air in frustration and began speaking more deliberately. "Do you want to talk to him? …Yeah, he's right here… It's no problem." Hand over the phone he finally addressed Jack. "Tosh wants to speak to you."

"Why didn't she call my phone then?"

"She thought you might be busy and figured it safer to call me instead."

Jack almost laughed at the irony of it. He held it back, but let slip a toothy smile. "What's it about?"

Ianto shrugged and held out the phone. "You'll have to find out for yourself, she didn't tell me."

Jack took it, wishing he could just hang up and pick up where they left off. He could still feel Ianto's wild heartbeat against his skin, his hot chest against his. But if Toshiko felt it important enough to call three times then it must be pretty damn important.

"Hi, Tosh," he said, trying to keep his breathing under control. No need to let on what they were doing. "What do you need?" As the technician exploded into a series of thoughts, theories and questions about the gun she had left behind at he Hub Jack rolled his eyes fondly and motioned for Ianto to get off him. The younger man obliged and Jack instantly missed the heat and contact.

He swung his feet around to sit up, trying to listen but not really keeping up. Her enthusiasm was admirable, but her timing could use some work. His eyes followed Ianto as the man wandered about the room gathering up their clothing, most likely just something to do while he waited. When he picked up his own pants he paused momentarily, pondering whether or not it was worth it to put them back on, before resigning himself and folding them up with the rest of the clothes.

In the dim light Jack admired his form: solid and pale and oh so tantalizing. Shadow against light, his features were more defined, an effect called by artists chiaroscuro, a word Jack had picked up while he was dating a painter from Cairo. To be honest he wasn't entirely certain about the pronunciation, he had only ever heard it filtered through a think accent, but at the moment he was certainly appreciating the effect. A small frown disturbed the Welshman's peaceful expression and thrown up with deep shadows and low lights it looked beautiful.

"Jack."

"Tosh," Jack replied, suddenly drawn out of his reverie.

"I wasn't sure you were still there," she laughed lightly. "I've been talking for a while. I guess I'm just excited about this. We've never seen something like this before. Well, we have, but not _exactly_ like this."

"Yeah, I thought I told you to relax and forget the gun," he told her with a smile.

"I can't help it, it's just so fascinating. Violent, but very informative."

"You take too much work home with you as it is. Take the night off for once." Jack caught Ianto's eye and smiled apologetically at him, but Ianto simply leaned against the opposite wall and the small frown deepened, spreading to his brow and casting further shadows across his face.

"You're right," Tosh admitted. "I guess I don't spend much time relaxing do I?"

Jack raised an eyebrow to Ianto, silently asking if everything was all right. He got a nod in response, but the frown didn't go away.

"I'm not sure I know how after all these years," Tosh continued, laughing.

"Well, you've got a big brain, don't you? I'm sure you can figure it out." He stood up and moved over to the young man, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ianto only glanced at him before turning his gaze back to the floor.

"What do you do on your time off?"

"I'm sure you don't want to know." He moved his hand from shoulder to neck, eyebrows shooting up when he felt the still-racing pulse. Ianto swallowed hard and raised a hand to his chest. "Erm, Tosh, I think I'm going to have to call you back," Jack said, worry growing in his own chest.

"Is something wrong, Jack?" Tosh asked, anxiety evident in her words.

"I don't know," he said at the same time Ianto muttered, "Shit."

He shot his eyes, wide and panicked, to Jack and exclaimed incredulously, "I think I'm having a heart attack."

* * *

A/N

I'm still pissed they never made a musical episode - LL

Torchwood isn't mine


	4. Chapter 4

There's a moment before panic when the brain has to process the information and decide how to react to it. In that moment a person becomes acutely aware of their heart beating, of the face they are making, of the fact that they should be doing something but feel utterly helpless and uncertain. In this moment the body freezes and the mind spins in place, trying to regain traction on a brand new idea that has been thrust into it without warning and without any frame of reference. There has been no time to prepare for it and it is a moment that slows everything else down for the briefest of times before abruptly catching on the information and taking off at full speed.

After this the panic sets in and there comes a completely new feeling of helplessness that rather than hollows the mind like the moment before, fills it to the brim with useless intentions and no way to sort through them.

Jack went through this process, staring dumbly at Ianto before suddenly needing to do something but not knowing what. Phone still pressed to his ear he could vaguely hear Tosh demanding to know if Ianto had just said what she thought he had said and it was all he could do to blurt out, "What?"

"Jack, I'm having a heart attack," his friend repeating, looking considerably more at grips with the situation than the Captain was feeling. "Or a panic attack maybe? I don't know. But something's wrong, something's wrong with my heart. Oh God, Jack, I'm having a heart attack." The fear in his voice was building and his chest was beginning to heave as hyperventilation invaded his lungs.

Still not entirely past the processing stage, Jack cursed and fumbled at Ianto's chest as though pressing his hand to the bare skin would slow the frantic muscle before finally bringing his hand to the man's face and commanding into the phone, "Tosh, call Owen. Tell him Ianto's having a heart attack."

"A heart attack?" Tosh cried back at him. "Why is he having a heart attack?"

"I don't know!" He was shouting now, the panic leaking in. "Call Owen, get him over here now." He hung up before Tosh could respond and turned his full focus to Ianto, who was staring back at him, bug-eyed.

"Jack, I don't think this is a heart attack," he heaved.

"What is it, then, a panic attack?"

"No, it doesn't feel like it." He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "I've had panic attacks before, but this is different." He could hardly speak through spasming lungs, but he managed to push through, the logical part of his mind trying to take over, attempting to overthrow the terror. Jack could tell he was trying to shut down the fear, but wasn't having the easiest time. "Fuck, it hurts."

"Your heart?"

"Yes, my heart. Christ, Jack, pull yourself together, I don't know what to do and I need you t- AUGH!" He threw his head back in agony and clutched his arms around his stomach. "Fuck!"

Jack tried to pull out of his stupor, but he honestly didn't know what to do either. Feeling useless he wrapped his arms around his young friend, wanting to help, but not knowing how. Tosh was calling Owen and it was pretty obvious Ianto shouldn't or even couldn't be moved and there was no way they could let paramedics into the Hub so an ambulance was out of the question. So all he could think to do was comfort.

"It's okay, I'm here," he managed. He pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead and furiously tried to come up with something he could do to help. "I'm here, Owen's on his way, you'll be fine, just breathe."

"Everything hurts," Ianto heaved. "Not just my heart. Oh god my stomach, my head, Jesus, even my skin. It's everything." He let out a moan that grew into a shout. His face contorted in pure pain, and he twisted and writhed in Jack's arms. The Captain brought a hand up behind his head to keep him from banging it off the wall. "God dammit!" Ianto screamed, kicking the desk and knocking over the guest chair. "What's happening, Jack?" The pain momentarily subsided and he weakly curled his legs up, holding tightly to Jack's protective arms. "What is this? What's happening to me?"

"I don't know."

A sheen of sweat had developed on Ianto's forehead and the Captain gently wiped it away and smoothed back the equally sweaty hair. Another spasm ran through Ianto's body and Jack struggled to hold onto him, wanting to cry at the sight of such pain. The next scream started as a barked "Jack!" before devolving into wordless cries that just seemed to go on and on.

He could feel Ianto's burning muscles flex and twitch under the skin, his heart still pounding away amidst the wreckage, and suddenly he became aware of something else moving deep beneath the flesh. Craning his neck to avoid being clocked by Ianto's thrashing head he caught sight of a disturbing change that was taking place.

The Welshman's feet, strained and flexed, were beginning to grow. The bones had become evident under rapidly stretching skin as they extended. Blue veins bulged between translucent flesh and ridging bone, patched of dark red blossoming where they broke from stress and blood began to pool.

A vicious jerk tore Ianto from his arms and the poor man writhed on the floor of his office and it became clear that his feet were not the only things changing. His spine rose above his ribcage and his shoulder blades migrated apart, pushing arms down toward a narrowing chest. Nails elongated and thickened, becoming claws and fingers withdrew and swelled.

Perhaps the most horrifying transformation was Ianto's face. Tears streamed from his eyes as his jaw and nose protruded grotesquely, thinning lips on a broadening mouth revealed teeth so large and sharp they could easily puncture metal. His ears became pointed and his flattening cranium mixed with the snout gave the appearance that his entire skull was being stretched out.

Jack sat back against the wall, terrified as he watched his friend, still screaming, go through the excruciating process. Black hair was sprouting from Ianto's pale skin, but it was his eyes that confirmed to him what was happening. Eyes once so blue had been consumed by their irises and flooded by amber. Dog eyes, Jack thought. He clasped a hand to his own mouth as fear and disgust fought for dominance in his chest.

The deep scream became an even deeper howling moan before fading away completely. There was no denying now, the change complete, the fur annexing his entire body, the once immaculate Welshman had become something else, something horrifyingly familiar.

The form of the dog lay motionless on the floor, sides heaving with desperate breaths that slowly subsided to an easy rise and fall. Jack was tempted to reach out and touch it, him – Ianto, his Ianto – but restrained himself. Instead he leaned forward warily and whispered, "Ianto?"

The dog huffed as though in surprise before heaving itself upright and twisting its head around to look Jack in the eyes, yellow to blue, animal to man.

"Ianto," Jack breathed. "Oh God, what's happened to you."

There was a brief moment in which there was nothing, silence between two still bodies. A charge was lit between them, but Jack was lost in his own head, the revelation of what was happening sinking in before he was pulled out of his sorrow and horror by the sound of a growl deep in the dog's throat. Its lips were pulled back to bare those so-sharp teeth and Jack could feel no small amount of fear in the back of his mind. "Ianto," he repeated, a warning this time. In response, the animal lunged.

.oOo.

Owen grumbled as he stumbled his way from the bus stop across the Plass. One hell of a headache was pounding away in his skull and his mouth was drier than the Sahara. Sunglasses weren't enough to keep his eyes from burning in otherwise direct sunlight. He felt like crap and if it hadn't been for all of those damn missed calls he wouldn't have bothered coming into work at all today, never mind he was already nearly an hour late.

Great night though, what he could remember of it. Numbers from two different smoking hot chicks and steamy encounters from another less intimidating specimen. It had been someone's birthday at the first bar he had gone to so there were two non-consecutive free rounds and plenty of drunken partygoers who were more than a little handsy. Owen could hold his own though, and he had survived there long enough to make it safely to the second bar where a pretty girl near the bathrooms was rebounding hard.

Yes, a very good night, spoiled only by the painful reality that was the morning after and the realization that he didn't know where his car was. Buses were filthy, he hated the bus, but he didn't exactly have any other options, taxis were ridiculously overpriced.

Apparently things had been busy last night as he had collected five missed calls from Tosh and two from Gwen, but he refused to listen to the messages on the grounds that he didn't care. His day was finished, he'd done his time. By the time he got to the tourist office door it was closing on 8:45, and to his surprise the sign on the door was still switched to "CLOSED." He didn't think much of it, however, figuring Ianto had just gotten caught up in one of this other numerous duties and not realized what time it was. A rare occurrence, but it had been known to happen.

He let himself through the secret door to the lift and took the time going down to massage his aching temples. Shouldn't have done those last three vodka shots, always a bad move and yet he always did it. "Idiot," he muttered as the cog door spun open, shooting off its stupid blaring alarms and sending a wave of pain through his poor brain.

Letting loose a stream of curses under his breath he trotted down the steps and into the main area where the rest of the team seemed to have congregated around a chair. Sitting in the chair was Ianto, looking deeply disturbed and wrapped up in a blanket while the other three spoke hurriedly to one another as though he was not there.

"How is that even possible?" Gwen was asking, arms crossed and looking concerned. "There's no such thing."

"You'd be surprised what's out there," Jack told her, entirely serious. "If I hadn't seen it for myself I wouldn't believe it either, but it happened. There's no getting around it." Whatever Owen had walked in one was clearly no laughing matter. He took off his sunglasses as he approached and Jack, noticing his appearance, took on a much darker countenance. "And where the hell were you?" he hissed.

"Out," Owen spat back.

"Is that the best you can do?" Gwen asked shrilly. She did that a lot, why did she always do that?

"Yes, I was out. Christ, what's got you lot so pissy?"

"Didn't you get our messages?" Tosh asked, significantly calmer than their colleagues. She seemed to be the only one to remember Ianto's presence and had her hand resting on his cloaked shoulder.

"No I did not, what's happened?"

Jack frowned and turned to glance at the archivist who continued to stare at the floor. "There was an incident last night."

Owen pulled up another chair and took a seat, eyeing the Welshman with a combination of irritation and concern. "What sort of incident?"

Jack spun the doctor's chair around to face the computer where he hit play on a recording that had already been set up on the screen. It was from the camera just outside the Captain's office and at first there was nothing Owen could really see of any significance. If it weren't for the time noted in the corner progressing he would have thought it a still image. But soon movement caught his eye and he watched as the office door was flung open and a large black shape galloped out. Owen frowned as the footage switched to another camera, an overview of the Hub from the water tower, where the shape, a dog he realized, raced frantically about. It crashed into a work station, sending papers flying, jumped onto then off of the couch before reaching a table holding the energy gun Tosh had been running tests on where it grabbed at the cables wired into it and yanked the gun onto the floor.

Jack paused the video, the dog frozen in place, body coiled to launch itself across the Hub for a second round of destruction. "So a dog got in last night?" Owen asked, still not convinced this was anything he needed to be worried about. "Wait, how did a dog get in?"

"This isn't any normal dog," Jack said in a low voice. "Remember that night about a month ago when Ianto and I were attacked during a weevil hunt?"

"You can't possibly be suggesting this is that same dog?"

"I'm not."

"So there just happen to be two gigantic dogs on the run in Cardiff and no one has reported it to animal control?"

Jack sighed and cast another glance to Ianto before running a hand down his face. "That's not a dog."

Owen looked between his friends, confused and a little wary. They were all looking downcast as though some great loss had befallen them while he was out for the night. "What do you mean, that's not a dog?" he asked slowly.

For the first time since Owen had arrived Ianto spoke. "It's me," he told him in an unsteady voice.

"That's… you." When there was no response he turned to Tosh and then to Gwen for confirmation and when both women looked away with small nods the doctor looked back to the archivist. He was clearly shaken, eyes fixed back to their gaze at the floor and blanket held tightly about him. "You're a dog?"

"I need a shower," Ianto muttered, standing up. Blanket still around his shoulders he retreated into the showers leaving Owen at a loss.

"Last night," Jack took over. "In my office Ianto heart started racing and he said he was in a lot of pain. Then he started having seizures of some sort and… he changed."

"Bloody hell," was all Owen could manage.

"I tried calling you," Tosh told him. "When you didn't answer I called for an ambulance, but there was no one to let them into the Hub."

"Not that we could have let them down here anyways," Jack argued.

"I didn't know what was happening," Tosh continued, defensive and full of concern. "All I knew was that Ianto was having a heart attack and since you were unreachable-"

"Where were you, by the way?" Gwen interrupted, casting a glare to Owen. "I tried calling too. Were you so busy on the pull you couldn't pick up your bloody phone?"

"It's not like I knew what you were calling me about," Owen retorted, avoiding the fact that he had been too drunk to even notice his phone had been going off.

"You're our doctor," Jack bellowed. "When something happens I expect you to be there!"

Owen scowled at the Captain. "I do have a life, you know, something the rest of you should try sometime."

"So it's up to the rest of us to do your job?" Gwen insisted. "You're too drunk so we have to be the ones to come in here and pick up the pieces when things fall apart because you're out enjoying a pint?"

"I do my job!" Owen stood up, hangover elevating from irritable to furious, the pounding in his head only fueling his rage. "And it's because of my job that I have to fucking drink! Do you know what I deal with on the daily? Do you really think you could handle the things that I put up with because this twat can't stay alive?" He pointed to Jack who stepped forward to challenge him, anger burning hot on his features.

"Please stop, do you really think this is helping?" Tosh broke in; voice raised in a way it so rarely was. "Ianto's in trouble, we need to figure this out and the three of you getting all emotional isn't going to solve anything." Jack and Owen backed away from one another looking suitably cowed and Gwen folded her arms across her chest as she put her head down. "Thank you," Tosh said in a much more restricted tone. "Now let's gather the facts and work this problem out."

"Sorry to interrupt," came a calling voice. They turned to fins Ianto clad in nothing but a towel, hair damp and a sickly look on his face. "But I think I just threw up a finger."

.oOo.

When Tosh arrived Jack was already dead.

After he had hung up on her she had called Owen like the Captain had ordered, but after a few tries and no response she called 999 instead. She had gotten as far as giving them the address to the tourist center before realizing they could never be let into the Hub, so she apologized and excused the false alarm. Instead she got in a cab herself to go to the Hub, calling Gwen along the way to tell her what was happening. Rhys answered and told her brusquely to call back in the morning as Gwen had only just gotten home an hour ago and deserved a little time without Torchwood breathing down her neck. So Tosh instead texted the situation to Gwen in the hopes she would see it and convince her boyfriend to let her go.

It wasn't very late, only nine or so at night, but it was dark when she reached the Plass and the quay was nearly empty, so Tosh hurried through the secret door, down the elevator and into an overturned Hub. With no sign of Jack or Ianto she went to look for them in Jack's office and was greatly disturbed to find the Captain twisted up on himself, half eaten, mostly naked, and completely dead.

Frightened of what could have caused this she shut the office door and waited with him until his body had healed itself enough for him to wake up. By then it was nearly 10:30 and there was still no sign of Ianto. She hoped he had not been trapped somewhere else with whatever had destroyed the computers and paperwork, but when Jack rose he informed her this was indeed not the case.

When the story had been told of what had occurred after-hours at the Torchwood Hub, Tosh was skeptical, but using Jack's laptop she was able to get into the security system and see for herself that everything he had said was the truth. They decided to wait and watch, hidden away in the safety of Jack's office, behind his desk for good measure. Around 11:15 Gwen called saying she had just read the text and was on her way and Tosh was forced to warn her away, unable to say really what had happened as she wasn't entirely certain herself. Gwen reluctantly agreed and said to call her when things were safe enough for her to come in.

They waited all night, huddled together in the dim light of a desk lamp with the computer propped up between them. They were able to locate and track the beast for several hours before it disappeared from view. Early in the morning they were able to find it again, thrashing about on the floor of an archival room, and Tosh watched in alarm as the monster distorted and broke and changed, becoming in all its lashing out a man she recognized.

When the transformation was complete, Ianto remained crouched on all fours before he collapsed into a heap on the floor, apparently unconscious. They waited and watched for another hour before deciding it was safe to venture out. Jack went first, creeping silently up to his lover to make sure he really was human. Identity confirmed, Tosh called Gwen, telling her it was safe to come in and at seven in the morning the three of them were standing over their co-worker, observing him warily.

Gwen was the one who woke him and he seemed just as surprised to be there as they were to find him there. After covering himself up, thoroughly embarrassed, he listened to what they had to say and only after watching he video footage of the second transformation was he able to understand this was no ill-conceived joke.

They attempted calling Owen again, but with no reply they were forced to wait, discussing the implications of the nights events. Debate on legitimacy and talk of possible causes could only produce one ruling, no matter how ridiculous and impossible it seemed.

Ianto Jones was a werewolf.

* * *

A/N But are things really as simple as they seem? Pfft, of course not, this is just the beginning. Hold onto your hats, things are about to go off - LL

Don't own Torchwood

Please review (it feeds me)


	5. Chapter 5

Dressed in suit trousers and a burgundy collared shirt Ianto sat atop the examination table in the autopsy bay. Jack had offered him some easier clothes, sweatpants and a t-shirt, but Ianto had insisted on wearing the spares he kept in his locker. At the moment the shirt was unbuttoned and Owen was fussing about, checking his pulse, his blood-pressure and all sorts of other things, as the rest of the team watched, reminded grimly of the time they had been watching the Welshman bleed out on that same table not so long ago.

The medic flicked a penlight across Ianto's eyes. "And you don't remember anything?"

"Nothing useful, no."

"Seems to be a recurring theme with you," Owen muttered bitterly. He leaned back, tapping the edge of his desk with the tips of his fingers and squinted at his patient. "No concussion, no abnormalities, no tail. Absolutely nothing strange or unusual about you beyond the regular weirdness that is the Teaboy. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I went into Jack's office to say goodnight before I left." He frowned. "No wait, Tosh called me, I remember that."

"Which time?" Jack stood next to the metal table with his arms crossed over his chest. He seemed to be intent on staying close as possible throughout the examination process and Owen was fighting the urge to invoke his status as resident physician to remove him from the area, but honestly the ensuing argument wouldn't be worth it.

"I only remember her calling once," Ianto replied. "I didn't pick up. Why, how many times did she call?"

"Three," Tosh told him. She was situated on Owen's other side, her inquisitive and caring nature preventing her from straying far from the action if it could be called action. "You picked up the third time. You don't remember talking to me?"

"No, sorry."

"So, memory loss, heart palpitations, muscle spasms, and primitive transmogrification," Owen listed. He smirked. "Seems to me like a clear-cut case of lycanthropy."

"And that's your medical opinion, is it?" Ianto asked as he buttoned his shirt back up.

"There has to be something else," Gwen argued. She stood the farthest away, at the opposite end of the table from Jack and close to the wall. It was all making Owen feel a little claustrophobic. "Maybe it was one of the artifacts we brought in last week. That thing with the buttons? Tosh never did figure out what it did."

Jack shook his head. "It's too perfect," he told her. "Bitten by a dog one month ago and suddenly he becomes one just like it. There's no getting around this, Ianto's a werewolf."

A look of exasperation stole over Gwen's face as she tried to find a way around Jack's reasoning. "But there's no such thing as werewolves, they don't exist."

"Tell that to Elizabeth."

"The Queen?" Gwen was letting the disbelief in her voice give way to derision.

"It does seem pretty strange," Tosh admitted in an attempt to prevent a full-blown fight. She had taken the liberty of invading Owen's computer and was doing some research. "Most studies say that the moon, no matter the phase, has little to no effect on the human body. In any case it was waxing last night. So to attribute what happened to the moon as werewolfism tends to does lean a little to the preposterous." She shrugged. "But that's just mythology, there could be some truth to it. Most mythology has a basis in reality, we just need to find it."

"So," Owen remarked, "In short we have no idea what has happened or why."

"No, we know what's happened," Jack argued. "Dog bites Ianto, Ianto becomes dog, Ianto is a werewolf. The moon is a powerful influence even if science has a little trouble keeping up with it. But looking back through the history of the werewolf could turn up some interesting stuff."

"I'll get right on it," Tosh told him with a smile. If Owen didn't know better he would say she was enjoying this. Good old Tosh, ever the scientist, always jumping at the chance to learn something new. Sometimes her enthusiasm made him anxious, it was like being in high school again.

A deep grumble emanated from his patient's stomach and Owen raised his eyebrows. Jack laughed. "Feeling hungry?"

Ianto shrugged. "Just a bit."

"Gwen?" Jack turned to the former PC Cooper who nodded.

"I'll pick something up. Any preferences?"

There was a call for a round of coffees, to which Ianto did not protest, and various types of fast-food, eventually settling on an array of Chinese foods. "Pizza," Ianto added in.

"Chinese _and_ pizza?" Gwen asked incredulously.

He nodded a little sheepishly. "May be more than a bit hungry. I did miss breakfast."

"A change like you went through would probably use up a lot of energy," Tosh explained. "Two changes would be even more exhausting. Do you feel tired?"

A nod.

"I thought you would."

"Maybe you should have a lie-down, then," Gwen told him. "We've already cleaned up most of the mess and I'll give you a call when lunch is here."

Ianto smiled at her hospitality, but insisted he couldn't possibly sleep with all that was happening and admitted he would feel better if he could help in some way. Jack reluctantly agreed. "Nothing too strenuous, though. Tell Owen if you start feeling sick."

Tosh was shooed away to her own computer where she set up camp to do some internet exploration and Ianto busied himself making the Hub spotless. When Gwen returned with food and drink they took their refreshments at their stations with Gwen back at the police blotter and hospital records. Jack reclined with a laptop in his office, abandoning it periodically to check up on his studious employees. Owen himself observed.

Meant to be testing blood, skin cells and a selection of other bodily samples, the doctor was only partially focusing on the task at hand. His eyes couldn't help but track the archivist on his mission. He had eaten the entire pizza himself, barely taking a breath between slices, drank three cups of coffee and was currently carrying around a mug that Owen was pretty sure didn't contain tea.

Despite his earlier shocked paralysis the man seemed perfectly fine. Stony-faced and peacefully postured he looked like he would on any other day, picking through a mess of tangled wires to rescue a stapler that had been knocked off Gwen's desk a week ago and gone unnoticed. There was nothing about Ianto that even hinted at someone who had just suffered a major life alteration.

But that was how it always was, wasn't it? Something horrible would happen and Ianto would just brush it aside like it was just another scrap piece of paper that needed to be thrown in the bin. Even after Lisa died, he had come back from suspension with a wordless nod to his colleagues and picked up a bin liner. No fuss, no tears. Sure he could get emotional in the moment, Owen had seen him cry a few times and even raise his voice. Raising a hand to the scar on his own shoulder he recalled just how angry he could get. But somehow even that little hissy-fit had been swept up neatly and they got on with their lives as though it had never happened.

It seemed like since Jack had disappeared and they had all sorted out their differences (to a degree) Ianto had been happier, more involved. He laughed with them, talked with them and even went out for drinks with them on occasion. There would always be a bit of tension between the two of them, but Owen considered Ianto his friend.

He noticed things, though, that disturbed him about the man. His utter devotion to Jack was one of these things. Ianto was still happier than he had been, but something about it had changed since Jack returned, becoming calmer and more akin to contentedness. Owen had become aware that the Captain and the archivist spending more time together, casting each other glances, standing close to one another, were all symptoms of something Owen himself had not suffered in quite some time. Hopefully this meant that Ianto had someone to open up to, but he suspected that whatever was happening did not lend itself towards those kinds of intimacies.

Ianto glanced up and Owen was forced to return his eyes to his work so as not to be caught staring. That was something he didn't need to explain. Taking a sip from his coffee, he thanked the Gods for Advil, the headache he had been sporting earlier had retreated giving him the blessed ability to multitask without trouble. Unfortunately the samples he was running through their paces were turning up nothing so far, just like the last time. This was getting infuriating. Plenty left to do, however, so there was still hope, but Owen was less than optimistic.

A fresh mug appeared on his desk and Owen looked up to Ianto who was now in full suit complete with waistcoat and was taking the nearly empty mug from the desk. The doctor nodded his thanks and once again Ianto disappeared leaving Owen to the realization that maybe that was how he did it. Caring for others, putting the team before himself, catering to their needs while ignoring his own.

A dangerous method, but an effective one. Owen would need to have a talk with him about caring better for himself.

At the moment, there was nothing to be done but continue with his work. Owen would have to ignore Ianto's mental state and focus on his physical one for the time being.

Consumed in his work, it came as a surprise when moments later Ianto's voice rang across the Hub that supper had arrived. Abandoning their work they convened in the conference room. Owen took up a seat next to Gwen and across from Tosh who had both already taken their boxes of fish and chips from the centre of the table. At the feel of the greasy cardboard he grimaced. Fish and chips were good, but there was often far too much grease in them and it made him feel gross for hours after. Spearing a chip on his fork Owen noticed Ianto was already halfway through his fish. Still hungry, he noted.

"Alright, team," Jack boomed as he strode into the room. "What we got?"

Gwen started, being the only one with a currently empty mouth. "Once again, nothing new. The city is free of giant dogs as far as the police are concerned and hospitals have nothing either. It's like this thing only existed for a little bit before disappearing completely. Like it was only there to bite Ianto before scarpering off again to wherever it came from."

"Well, if it's in the same situation as Ianto, it's probably only a dog one night a month," Jack acknowledged. He took a seat at the end of the table and reached for his food. "Which will make it a lot harder to find."

"There's a question," Owen interrupted through a mouthful of haddock. "What are we supposed to do if we do find the other dog? If this guy is still turning into that thing then he obviously doesn't know how to cure it."

"No, but _when_ we find them he could help us trace this back to its origins and that could shed some light on what we're dealing with here. And if we manage to find a way to fix this we could help them too."

Owen nodded before shoveling another helping of fish into his mouth.

"I'm not sure there is a way to fix this, Jack," Tosh reported. "I've been looking through the history of werewolves and their mythology and there doesn't seem to be much about curing them. Most of what I can find is just about how to kill them.

"Silver bullet?" Jack asked disappointedly. At Tosh's confirmation he bit into a chip. "It won't come to that," he told them through the potato. "We'll figure something out, there's always a way to fix things. What else have you been able to find out?"

"Well, as it turns out every culture has a form of werewolf in their mythology. The first ones found in history are mostly based on people eating other people, curses, Godly intervention or donning a wolfs skin. A lot of original legends say that the person would change into a wolf every night or until they were killed or the wolf skin was removed. It's only in recent years that we have come to view werewolves as a lunar event and the silver bullet is also relatively modern. So unless Ianto was wearing fur last night I don't know what we can do. I was hoping Owen might turn something up in his tests."

All eyes turned to Owen who shook his head. "Nothing as of yet," he reported. "But tests take time, some of those won't be done for a few days."

"Don't be have any technology that could speed things up a little?" Gwen posed. "We've got basements full of alien tech and a ton of crap up here as well, you'd think some of it was medical."

"Some of it is," he agreed with a nod, "but nothing that can tell me anything we don't already know. If we were able to scan him while it was happening or get some samples from the dog we might find something, but with no new information there's nothing we can do."

"So we wait, then," Jack sighed.

"And even then it might turn up nothing. I do have a theory about this, but the test I need to do for that will take at least two days to complete."

"Let us know if you find out about anything." He swatted away Ianto's hand, which was reaching for one of his chips having finished his own and cast him a disapproving glare. "As for the rest of you, continue your research. Expand to a broader field, look at more modern sightings, see if you can weed out any likely suspects. Ianto-" Another swat. "Go through our records, there might be something there we've missed. Go back as far as you can, we need to explore every avenue." He stood to leave, but paused and turned back to the archivist with a grin. "And some coffee too. It's gonna be a late night."

The team dispersed once more to continue with what they all felt was a fruitless search for answers. Jack returned to his office, carefully avoiding the red patch on his floor that Ianto had yet to scrub completely away, and dropped into his chair.

It was just closing on six in the evening, but it felt as if years had passed since the night before. So much had happened, but at the same time they had discovered so little. They were barely any farther than they had been that morning, the only thing they had to show for their efforts being a report on the history of what it might be and a few definitive ideas of what it wasn't.

Things were moving much too slowly for his liking. They weren't getting anywhere and that was entirely unacceptable. If he were being optimistic Jack would think about how if he was right about this (and he was certain he was) then this was a monthly deal. They had a good 28 days or so to figure this out before it happened again. If they were really lucky, he was wrong and this was a one time thing, a fluke or an after effect, something that would never happen again and they could go back to their lives and never worry about dogs or beast mythology again. If they were unlucky and he was wrong… Well, he didn't really want to think about that.

A coffee was set down at his elbow, black and steaming, and Jack barely caught a glimpse of a suited backside retreating through the door when he looked up. He drew a breath to call out to Ianto, he wanted to talk to him, make sure he was okay, but let it out in a sigh instead. The Welshman would have just said he was fine anyways, never much of one to talk let alone about feelings. It would be easier to just let him go to brood it over alone in the archives like he usually did. Their relationship was less centered on emotional sharing in any case.

He pushed aside the files coating his desk and replaced them with the log he kept on Torchwood activities. Kind of like Ianto's diary, but much less personal. Jack couldn't help but smirk at the memory of some of the things he had read in that little leather book. A moral person wouldn't have read it, but Jack was never one to pass judgment on morality.

Flipping to a bookmarked page he began to write. It had been ages and there was a lot to catch up on, and although it was far from his favourite activity it was a necessary one. Living forever had some advantages, but there was only so much a man could remember without a little assistance.

Two and a half pages later he paused his hand to shake out his aching wrist and checked the time with a hopeful gaze. It was getting late, Gwen wouldn't be happy. Perhaps it was time to check on the children.

Gwen and Tosh sat at their computers, both searching away for any clue, Owen was surfing the web while a sample whirred along in a spinning vile, looking bored out of his skull, and Ianto was presumably locked in the basement somewhere doing whatever it was he did. None of it looked very promising.

"What's the word, kids?" Jack called, trying to sound chipper.

Owen muttered something just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough to be deciphered. Tosh shook her head, "It's not looking good, Jack."

Gwen had a frown frozen on her face and was deeply involved in something on her screen. When she didn't respond, Jack leaned in behind her. "Gwen?"

"I may have actually found something," she muttered with amazement.

Tosh looked up from her own work and Owen craned his head to scowl at them from afar. "What is it?" he asked.

Gwen shook her head. "It might be nothing, with our luck it probably doesn't mean anything, but I was looking through the police logs for the past week and I found a call that sounds interesting."

"Anything would be progress at this point," Jack told her dryly.

Taking this as encouragement, she pointed to a paragraph lit up in front of them. "There was a call made to police a few weeks ago, a man making a noise complaint, saying his neighbor kept him up at all hours with strange sounds and his dog's barking. They went to the flat to have a word and the neighbor, a Mr. Wilson Price, apologized and said he would try to keep it down."

"And what does that have to do with us, then?" Owen had come up behind them as she was reading and was looking rather skeptical.

"I missed this at first because I wasn't sure either," Gwen explained, "but when I couldn't find anything I looked deeper into it and not only is his apartment complex only a block away from where Jack and Ianto caught that weevil a month ago, from what I can find, Wilson Price doesn't own a dog."

"And yet the neighbor complained of a dog barking?" Tosh asked.

"Yes. But Mr. Price has no dog license, no veterinary bills and the police mentioned they never saw the dog. So what kind of dog barks in the middle of the night, but not when the doorbell rings?"

"It does sound a bit odd," Jack agreed. He picked up an earpiece from Gwen's desk and spoke into it, "Hey Ianto, get up here, we may have found something."

"On my way," came back the grainy reply. A minute later the archivist had joined them and been filled in on what they had found. He looked thoroughly unimpressed. "That's not much to go on."

"No, but it's the best we've got, so we're going to follow up on it," Jack insisted. "Tomorrow, Gwen, I want you to go pay Mr. Price a visit, get inside his apartment, talk to him, see what you can find out, we need to know if this really has anything to do with us."

"And if he does?"

"Don't let on what this is about, but find out as much as you can and we can decide whether or not it's worth it to keep in contact with him. Until we know, we can keep him under video surveillance, make sure he doesn't go anywhere without us knowing about it. Tosh, can you find any CCTV near that address? I want to get a head start on this."

"Right away." She pushed off Gwen's desk to return to her own station and began tapping away at her keyboard. After a minute or so she gave a disappointed sigh. "There's no cameras immediately outside the building, but there's one two blocks down on either end. I don't think it will give us much, but I can go through the archived footage if you want."

Jack pressed his hand to his eyes and shook his head. "No, that's fine, thank you Tosh." Checking the time once more he gave his own sigh before forcing out a smile and turning to his team. "It's getting late, anyways, you should all head home and get some sleep. Gwen will go see Mr. Price tomorrow and we'll find out more then. It's been a long day."

They nodded in agreement, each a different picture of exhausted reluctance. Ianto, however, held up a finger to get their attention. "Owen," he said uncertainly, staring at the floor. "That thing that happened last night, when I-" He gulped and looked up to stare the doctor in the eyes. "What was it Jack said happened first? What was the first symptom?"

Owen frowned and glanced over to his boss before responding. "Increased heart rate, possibly palpitation."

Ianto closed his eyes and nodded sagely. "I thought so." Opening his eyes again he turned to the Captain. "Jack, you need to put me in the Vaults."

"Why?"

"Because my heart is racing and I don't think I'll be able to get there on my own."

Owen launched himself at the archivist and held a finger to his throat. A breath passed before he turned to Jack and nodded with a frightened stare. Jack spat out a curse before wrapping his arm around Ianto's waist and Ianto's around his shoulder, and took off at a quick pace. He barked orders to Gwen to open the doors to the Vaults and instructed Owen to come help him. The doctor obliged, taking up Ianto's other arm and between the two of them they led the stumbling man across the Hub. The farther they went the heavier he became, the quicker his breath, the more his feet stumbled. By the time they got through the door he was screaming.

It took effort to get Ianto's hand to release his shirtsleeve, but once Jack had freed himself he and Owen deposited Ianto in a waiting cell, and closed the door. The glass door did nothing to muffle the cries of anguish emanating from the small room and the four other team members watched in horror as the fits took hold of Ianto and he lay thrashing on the floor, body morphing into something at first unrecognizable and then into a creature they all knew well.

"One month, is it?" Owen muttered to Jack, both unable to tear their eyes away from the caged beast. "One month. It's barely been one day, how do you explain that, Harkness?"

He couldn't and with Gwen hanging on one of his arms terrified, and Owen and Tosh huddled together on his other side, one angry and both petrified, Jack couldn't begin to know how to find out.

* * *

I don't own Torchwood


	6. Chapter 6

For the second day in a row Jack watched Ianto wake up.

Just like the morning before he was groggy and disoriented and desperately in need of a shower. Just like the morning before he was tired and hungry and could recall nothing of the previous night past getting Jack's call to come upstairs. He had to be filled in again on everything that had happened including the discovery of Wilson Price and once again he was not overly enthused. The clothes he had been wearing the night before were tattered and torn, ripped at the seams and impossibly dirty. Jack gave him a pair of pants and a shirt, and said that later when he was feeling up to it they could go to Ianto's apartment and pick up some clothes for the next few days. To his surprise, Ianto adamantly refused.

"No," he told him with a shake of his head. "I can't go home, I can't go anywhere, not until this is sorted."

He was standing inside the cell he had spent the night in, leaning on the doorframe as he spoke. Jack stood in the hall looking puzzled. "Ianto, you can't expect to spend the rest of your life in the Vaults, that's insane. At least come upstairs."

Ianto vehemently shook his head. "I can't and you know it. We saw last night we don't know what this is, we don't know when I'll change, we can't risk me being around the others. Once we figure out why I'm changing then maybe I can come out, but until then I have to stay put."

"It's still early in the day, we can just go to your flat, pick up a few things and be back in no time."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to," he said apologetically. "And believe me, I do want to. But guidelines prohibit me from leaving this cell until we can be certain that I'm not a threat."

"What guidelines? We don't have guidelines for this sort of thing."

"'All hostile aliens are to be contained in secure states until such a time they can be released or disposed of in a safe environment,'" he quoted. "It's in the book."

Trust Ianto to be quoting rules and regulations in times like these. It seemed obvious that Jack was going to have no luck in convincing his young friend, so he sighed in frustration and reluctantly backed off. "Okay, fine, but if you're staying here you'll definitely need some clothes, so Tosh and I will go to your flat and pick some things up for you. Are you okay with that? I'll need the help." Ianto nodded approvingly. "Good. We shouldn't be long, just grab what you need. No suits, don't need to be ruining any more of those. T-shirts, underwear, pants… Is there anything else you'll need?"

"Toiletries, probably books, something to keep me occupied, bedding, but I get the feeling I won't be doing that much sleeping."

"You should try, though, you're exhausted," Jack told him softly. "I'll pick up everything you need and be back sometime this afternoon. You'll be okay until then?" Another nod. "Okay, I'll see you in a few hours." His hand hovered over the button that would close the door, but he hesitated. "You are okay, Ianto?"

A look of surprise crossed the Welshman's face, as though he had no idea that in this time of crisis people were even considering his feelings. "I'm fine," he uttered in a clipped tone. Jack searched his face for any sign that he was lying.

After a pause he said, "I don't believe you."

"What's to believe, Jack? I'm fine, you know that."

"No, I don't," he retorted with the slightest hint of exasperation. "Anyone else in your situation would be a wreck by now, but you're not saying anything. You never say anything, Ianto, and that worries me."

It was difficult to say this, not just because of the confused look on Ianto's face or the fact that they never really talked about emotions. Jack was never one to delve into the whole heart to heart thing, but in this case he felt it was important. Both of them were fairly reserved men, never ones to express themselves conspicuously. But in this confined space, in this situation, there seemed no more reasonable time to do it. And in all honesty, Jack _was_ worried.

It didn't seem that Ianto felt the same, however, as all he said back was, "I've been through a hell of a lot worse than this." And maybe it was true, maybe he was just comparing the predicament they were in to past events and seeing it wasn't that bad. Maybe that tone of comfort in his statement meant he was just being strong for Jack, trying to appear more together than he was, Jack wouldn't put it past him.

Instead of saying any of this, however, he simply gave Ianto a look to let him know he didn't believe him before saying, "Okay. I'll see you in a few hours. Try to get some sleep." He pressed a few buttons and the door slid shut sealing Ianto in for the day before heading out.

"And get me something to eat, too," Ianto called after him just before the outer door to the Vaults shut. "I'm starving."

.oOo.

Gwen pulled up to the apartment complex with a growing sense of unease in her chest. The neighborhood was far from inviting and she made doubly sure her car was locked before venturing into the building. Jack had claimed the SUV for his more domestic mission and not a moment went by where Gwen didn't wish she had the security of the massive black vehicle keeping her safe.

Inside was a bit better than out, though not by much. Striped yellow wallpaper, once bright and cheery, looked grainy and sick. Fake potted plants sat in every corner of the lobby gathering dust and one of the lights had burnt out, but at least it was clean. Up a flight of metal stairs she found the floor of Mr. Price's flat. Floor four, apartment 43b.

Aware of the area of town the suspect lived in, Gwen had made an effort to get some reassuring company, but Jack and Tosh were occupied at Ianto's flat and Owen had opted to stay behind and monitor him in case he changed again, hoping to find a cause. So alone she walked down the hall of floor four, quickly coming to the door in question. The number was hanging on it in gold-coloured metal, but the "b" had fallen off and been written back on in black sharpie.

Police training be damned, Gwen did not feel safe or entirely prepared to be here. Considering how fast the change seemed to take place it seemed a safe bet that if Mr. Price really did have the affliction and Gwen had the misfortune to be there when it took hold she would not be getting out unscathed. If Jack were here, she thought, or even Owen then maybe it would be okay, but alone she didn't stand a chance.

Remembering her mission, she steeled herself enough to knock on the door. Bang-bang. Nothing. Bang-bang-bang. Still nothing. Leaning in she peered through the peephole, hoping to catch a glimpse of movement, but she could make out nothing in the blurred mess. Was he at work? She didn't think so.

Through further research they had discovered that the man worked in a grocers, stocking shelves and cleaning floors, holding down just enough hours to make a living wage. It was possible he had picked up an extra shift, his regular schedule had been clear for the day, but something about the whole thing just didn't feel quite right.

"Are you the police?" came a nasty voice. Gwen jumped back from the door and turned to its source, a neighbor leaning through his open door in not much more than his skivvies.

"No," Gwen replied after regaining her composure. "Why do you ask?"

The man, large and balloon-like with a prominent chin, stepped into the hall more fully to regard her with a squint. "You sure? Wilson don't get many visitors, 'specially none as posh as you."

"Are you his neighbor?"

He held out one sausage fingered hand, which Gwen regretted shaking immediately. "Jim Lowry, 44a" he introduced himself. Taking back his hand he set it at his hip and looked Gwen up and down. "If you ain't the police then who are you?"

"Gwen Williams," she lied. Not a big lie, but enough to subdue the threat of him finding her later. "Do you know where Mr. Price is? I need to speak with him."

"Not a clue. Haven't seen him for a week at least, thank God. Complete tosser, gets regular visits from the local talent, if you get my meaning. Can't even find a real girl to shack up with. And that damn dog of his barking away every night gives me a headache. Haven't gotten a proper night sleep since he moved in, but the landlord won't do anything. Too much hassle I bet, can't be bothered to keep up the building unless it benefits him."

"Sorry, did you say dog?" asked Gwen, not at all sorry.

He glared down at her. "Fuckin' animal shouldn't even be in the building. Massive beast from the sounds of it. Wonder he's able to feed the miserable sod, never even seen him walk it. Dog makes that much noise, you get rid of it, I say. We'd all be better off for it, Wilson, me, _and_ the dog."

Gwen held up a hand to interject. "Are you the neighbor who made the noise complaints?"

He peered at her suspiciously, tiny eyes all but lost in pocked and grizzled cheeks. "Thought you said you weren't with the police."

"I'm not," she told him, thinking quickly. "I'm with animal control. Other residents have been making similar complaints and your landlord called us in to take care of it."

"Alex finally taking care of business," Jim said with approval. "I told him he should get you lot down here, only way to get anything done, doin' it yourself. Police are worthless; upwards of twelve calls they've only been here once and said they didn't see a dog. Pigs. Only thing they're good for is wasting funds."

"Yeah… Do you know where I could get a key?"

"Didn't Alex give you one? Bloody typical. Don't worry, love, I know where he keeps a spare." Jim lumbered over and Gwen moved out of his way, overcome with the odour radiating off of him. He lifted a tree trunk of an arm to pull down something from atop the doorframe and slapped it down in her palm. A small silver key. "What kind of idiot keeps a key on top the doorway? It's a wonder he doesn't get robbed every other week. But I s'ppose that's what the dog's for, ain't it?"

"Thank you," Gwen said with a nod and the closest semblance to a smile she could muster.

"No, thank you. Doing me a massive favour, it's like Christmas." He grinned at her with surprisingly well-kept teeth. "Need anymore help just bang on the wall." He knocked the side of his fist on the wall by the door in example. "Don't need to tell you I'll be glad to be rid of the monster, might finally get some sleep. Puttin' it down is probably the humane thing to do, it's got no business being put through such misery as Wilson's done. We all might finally get some peace."

"I'll keep that in mind."

She pushed slightly on him with her shoulder to get him to move away just enough for her to unlock the door. "And listen, that thing give you any grief just smack it in the nose, that's what my dad always said to do." Hurridly she opened the door and stepped inside turning only to nod her thanks and mutter another "thank you" in the hopes he would finally leave. "Let me know if you get it, I want to know that thing's gone for good."

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Lowry."

"Call me Jim."

"Thank you, Jim." Gwen closed the door before the man could pick up again and sighed. Without even meeting Mr. Price she was already feeling endless sympathy for him.

Coming through the door had deposited her in a front hall, much brighter and nicer than the rest of the building that she had so far seen, and coming through it into the main room it was amazing to her that this apartment could even be in the same neighborhood as the rest of the complex. It was sparsely furnished, only the bare essentials, but clean and neatly organized, and what was there looked extremely inviting. A couch and a chair, matching and cushiony, but no television and only a small coffee table centred in the room. A single bookshelf stood sentinel by the wall with a Stonehenge of paperbacks occupying its shelves. There was a lamp by the couch, but the windows were large and uncurtained, letting in a great deal of light from the late-morning sun. Some pictures, a few pillows here and there, this place could be a proper home, Gwen thought as she explored.

A slamming door shook the room and the sudden sound of car chases and gunfights spoke of thin walls. It was easy to see why a dog of any size would be despised amongst the locals. In that line of thought, a quick look around was enough to determine that there was no sign of a dog anywhere in the apartment. The kitchenette (empty fridge, sparse cupboards) held no dog food and the bedroom, living room and closets were unoccupied by dog beds or toys. In fact, the flat seemed very unoccupied altogether.

The books were the closest thing to luxury she could find and with no food or comforts it didn't seem possible that a man had been living there for the past four months. Fortunately this only made Gwen feel less invasive about snooping around, breaking and entering if you wanted to get technical. It was with a cold eye, trained into her through a year with Torchwood that she discovered the remaining room tucked away behind a door she had thought hid the pantry.

Instead what she found was what could only have been intended as the master bedroom, but it had been repurposed for something altogether different. The walls were covered in soundproofing that had been scratched and torn rendering it next to useless. The floor was covered in marks and cuts, and the window had been covered up by a beat up sheet of plywood, creating a single dark room in a house of light. The door was even equipped with three separate locks on the inside, each one heavy duty and making Gwen feel intensely disturbed.

What had been in this room? What had caused that stench of meat and urine? She already knew the answer, but in her current state of disgust and dismay it eluded her, and reeling at the implications this room held she retreated, slamming the door shut and walking stiffly to the window in the much more welcoming living room.

Taking a few breaths she stared out at the view, a convenience store topped with a sign advertising children's karate classes. It wasn't like she hadn't seen some horrible things during her time with Torchwood, but the weight of this discovery, the contrast and suddenness of the room and its purpose, threw her off balance. And where was Mr. Price? Their suspect was still nowhere to be seen and it was appearing more and more as though he was not going to be coming back.

But Gwen needed to get a hold of herself, this was no way for her to be behaving, swooning at the sight of a darkened room in a nasty part of town. There was work to be done and she was the only one there to be doing it. So taking one more breath she went to the bathroom attached to the entrance hall and splashed some water on her face.

The bathroom was clean as well, sweetened by an air freshener that sat atop the medicine cabinet. Staring at herself in the cabinets mirrored door Gwen began making plans, sorting out which rooms to search and where, needing to get a more thorough understanding of who Wilson Price was. He was obviously the man they were looking for, the room attested to that, but now there was the question of where he was, how he came to be there, how he came to be what he was. There were endless questions racing through Gwen's mind and at the moment they were a good distraction, but sooner or later they would need to be answered.

Looking herself in the eyes, Gwen whispered a little pep talk to herself, preparing to take action. And what better place to begin than in the bathroom, she thought. Looking around it was not immediately evident if the room had been used recently, the shampoo container sitting on the edge of the bathtub meaning nothing, he could easily have left it behind. A single towel hung from the back of the door, but it was dry and she was loath to touch it much anyways, and the toothbrush in its holder was much the same.

Everything in here, along with the rest of the flat gave the idea that it had all been cleaned recently but abandoned in a hurry. There were no boxes or suitcases, which she found strange considering how recently he had moved in, but perhaps she had just not looked in the right places. If she recalled correctly, Wilson had moved to Cardiff from London shortly after arriving there from a small town south of Gloucester. So many moves, five total in the past year, it was surprising he had stayed so long in Cardiff. Perhaps he had simply moved on again. It should be easy enough to find out, he wasn't exactly trying to hide.

But being in the flat, seeing the room, Gwen was determined to find something, anything, that could tell them something about the mysterious Mr. Price. His books were cheap, nothing he couldn't leave behind, a few classics like Frankenstein and the Hound of the Baskervilles, and a selection of mystery novels that couldn't have cost more than a few dollars at a yard sale. All of them were in rough shape and easily replaceable. The chest of drawers in the bedroom was mostly empty – he had packed, then – with only a couple of shirts and another air freshener remaining. There was nothing expensive, nothing irreplaceable, nothing that was innately personal to the man.

He appeared to have carefully packed away anything useful to their case, but this only strengthened the idea that this was the man they were looking for. She suspected that, as was the case in his previous moves, there would be no message left for the landlord and no formal discussion. He would simply disappear, leaving the flat to go unoccupied until enough time had passed without his paying rent for someone to take notice. Without officially terminating his contract with his landlords it was difficult to tell when exactly had left each city, but it was easy enough to tell where he was going. They were lucky he never attempted to use an alias.

It seemed that Mr. Price wasn't entirely paying attention while he was packing, however, as Gwen found seemingly the only place he had forgotten to empty. Sitting in his medicine cabinet amid bandages, Advil and mouthwash were two labeled pill bottles prescribed to Wilson Price by a Dr. Hardiman. One, containing five small white pills called Lexipro, and the other holding seven or so small tan pills, the bottle calling them Rozerem.

Figuring it was the most informative item left in the flat, Gwen sealed the pill bottles in sandwich bags to give to Owen. Maybe he could figure out something to do with them.

She took one more look around before deciding there was nothing left of interest she could find. Before leaving she quickly pressed her ear up against the door to make sure Jim Lowry wasn't on the other side waiting for her and then Gwen left the apartment. She would tell Jack about the room and Owen about the pills and possibly complain a bit about dealing with the neighbors on her own. But whether or not they got any results from her excursion she knew she would not be coming back to the apartment.

Orders or no she refused to revisit the place that hid the room. She wasn't sure what it was about it that frightened her – the smell or the darkness or the knowledge of what took place in there – but it unnerved her. Probably more than she would admit. Jack would want to see it and possibly even Tosh or Owen, but for Gwen it was a bad place and driving away, out of the seedy neighborhood, she could still feel that dark room in the back of her mind. She wondered if they would soon need a dark room of their own.

* * *

A/N

I wonder how long Gwen was with the police before Torchwood? I wonder if she had any interesting experiences there? I'm actually amazed she never heard of Torchwood (AKA Cardiff's worst-kept secret) before Everything Changes. Next chapter follows Tosh and Jack, and the things they find. Should be interesting - LL

I don't own Torchwood or any drug labels mentioned in the story above


	7. Chapter 7

Tosh was Ianto's friend – his best friend if she was being realistic – but in the year or so she had known him she had never set foot in his apartment. It had never been a great curiosity to her, not something she had ever really thought about, but now that she was here she realized it was nothing like she had expected it to be. On first impression there was nothing about the flat that would make her think, "yes, this belongs to Ianto Jones," nothing that reminded her of the man they knew at Torchwood. There was nothing innately "him" about the place at all.

Stepping inside she looked around and was oddly surprised to find there was no giant coffee machine in the kitchen, no boundless racks of suits and ties lining the walls and no lovingly displayed information pamphlets. Absent was the smell of fresh-ground coffee beans and cleaning supplies, and the whole place was nowhere near obsessively clean as the man would have led her to believe. She chastised herself for seeing him so two-dimensionally, she knew him well enough to know he wasn't just a suit, but it was difficult not to be taken aback by how incredibly normal the place seemed.

Beyond the main entrance in which Jack hung the coat he had borrowed from the archivist (his own was still damaged and dirty) the room opened up into a large living room and kitchen area, divided only by a change in the floor from hardwood to tile. The kitchen was modern and well kept with only a few stray dishes lingering in the sink waiting to be cleaned, and a fridge proudly displayed a Christmas card showing a family of four she could only assume were somehow related to Ianto. The living room was comfortably furnished with a sofa and two armchairs set around a coffee table laden with books and DVD cases. Posters and portraits lined the wall behind the sofa with more images of the same family and another family with a bored-looking teen that could only be Ianto himself.

The dominating feature of the room however was the wall of shelves surrounding the television, all completely stocked with an impressive collection of movies arranged in alphabetical order. Tosh couldn't help but be amazed by the expansive compilation that predictably included the entirety of the James Bond movies minus Daniel Craig. She made a mental note to get him some of the more recent additions to the series.

"I never realized Ianto was such a fan of movies," she commented absently as her eyes flitted across the multitude of DVD cases.

Jack wandered over having been raiding the fridge for leftover chow mein. "He calls it a collection. I call it excessive." He shoved a forkful of noodles into his mouth. "But I guess there's not really much time for anything else." Eyes lit up and he reached out for a copy of what he displayed to Tosh lovingly as Gone with the Wind. "I was in this one," he told her proudly. "Didn't get much screen time and the video quality was awful, but I got to punch a guy in the face."

Tosh frowned in confusion. "There aren't any fight scenes in Gone with the Wind."

"Didn't say it was in the script," Jack said with a teasing smile before replacing the case and disappearing back into the kitchen area.

She gave the shelves one last look-over before turning her attention to her boss. His head was buried in the fridge again, no doubt looking for something to drink. "You seem to be making yourself comfortable."

"Ianto would never dare leave a house-guest unfed." A jug of orange juice was produced triumphantly and he gave her a winning smile. "Just trying to meet expectations."

She abandoned one display for another, walking behind the couch to get a look at the family portraits hanging on the wall amidst framed movie and band posters. Nearly all of them had been posed, a similar posture and arrangement exhibiting the aging of a family always having the mother, kindly and soft-featured, sitting in a chair with her son on the left, daughter on the right and husband standing stiffly in the back. The earliest she could find had Ianto as only four or five grinning toothily at the camera, a smile that seemed to grow less certain with its bearer's age.

Only once had Ianto ever spoken of his father to her, aside from glancing mentions of his position as master tailor, and his description had usually boiled down to a single word: reliable. Looking at the man's face it was impossible to tell what kind of man he had truly been, but stern features and a tight grip on his son's shoulder made her wonder if reliable was the right word. It was easy to tell where Ianto got his strict discipline from.

The other family, clearly that of the younger woman in the older portraits (Ianto's sister, obviously) seemed more relaxed, less uniform; a stark contrast to her childhood photographs.

"Rhiannon." Jack's voice made her jump and she found him to be standing close behind her studying the woman's face. "Rhiannon, Mica, David and…" He sucked in his lips, stuck on the name of Ianto's probable brother-in-law. "Joey?" he finally got out. "Ah. I can never get him right."

Tosh was surprised. "Have you met them?"

"No, Ianto won't let me. Probably for the best."

"But you know them."

"He's mentioned them a few times. I asked." Jack shrugged and headed for the closet by the front entrance, opening it up and scouring the contents. "Ianto has a unique ability to make you think he's telling you a lot when actually he's not telling you anything at all."

"But he has told you things," Tosh remonstrated as he pulled a suitcase down from the shelf at the top of the closet. "That's more than the rest of us get. I didn't even know he had a sister."

"I wouldn't have either if I hadn't asked about the pictures."

They moved through a second hallway into a bedroom that matched the rest of the flat in its pleasant disarray. Once again Tosh was distracted by the thought that it was not completely organized in every detail. It wasn't that the room was particularly messy, but knowing who it belonged to seemed to enhance every item out of place from the hastily made bed to the clothes dripping off the edge of the hamper. Had any other person owned this room she would have thought nothing of it, but she had to wonder where the suited, compulsively clean archivist went when Ianto threw him off for the day.

"Do you come round here often then?" Tosh continued, still scrutinizing the space with hopeless curiosity.

Jack set the suitcase on the bed and cast her a bemused crook of the eyebrow. "Now and then, yeah," he replied, tugging open the top drawer of a rather nice dresser and pawing through layers of shirts. "Not so much recently. Could you look for some books? He wanted books."

The little gathering of books on the shelf next to the bed was underwhelming compared with the expanse of movies in just the other room, but Tosh searched through them for any that looked interesting. "What's been happening recently, if you don't mind my asking? I mean, aside from the obvious."

"I don't know," he admitted with a sigh, dropping a few articles of clothing haphazardly into the waiting case. Tosh set aside the books in favour of folding, which she knew Ianto would appreciate. "He hasn't really been talking to me much lately. We haven't even gone out since that night, it's like he's avoiding me. The first night he changed was the first night in a month he's even sat down with me for more than a few minutes. At first I thought it was just about that night with the dog, that maybe he just got scared but- Do you know what he said to me when he woke up?"

No, she didn't. None of them knew what had happened that night except for Jack and Ianto, and the two of them had been very hush-hush about the whole thing, telling only what needed to be told. She shook her head, trying not to be too interesting while internally begging to know more.

Jack turned to look at her directly. "He told me to get out." He flung his arms open, one hand gripping a pair of socks. "What kind of response is that? He nearly dies and wakes up to a caring face and tells said caring face to get out right now." The socks landed with a bounce on the pants Tosh was folding. "I just wanted to help, but he's not exactly a guy to take help easy. Never has been. But telling me to get out? I was worried about him! I just wanted to know he was okay!"

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"Well… no." He turned back to the dresser. "He doesn't talk about things… I guess I'm not much better. It's hard. I have tried, though. Not about that, but about other stuff and he just shuts right up. The two of you have gotten pretty close, does he talk to you?"

"He's a very private man, Jack," she said apologetically. This trip was turning out to be a lot more informative than she had expected and she couldn't help but feel that she was invading a space she wasn't supposed to be anywhere near. It was uncomfortable, but at the same time it was something Jack seemed to need. Bursting with commentary so readily this must have been something he had been thinking about a great deal. "I'm sure he just needs some time."

"I'm sure you're right." He shrugged and turned to dumps a few more shirts into the suitcase. "I just wish he would understand that I'm here for him and ready to listen. It's like he's scared to tell me things."

"He does understand, he's just a little emotional and you know he doesn't handle that well. Do we really need all these shirts?"

"He likes to layer."

Tosh sighed and stood up from where she was perched on the edge of the bed. Jack could finish packing the clothes, all of her folding was just getting messed up anyway. "Are there any more books in here? These ones are fine, but they aren't exactly award-winning."

"I don't know, check the closet."

If there was still any tension in Jack's voice Tosh couldn't tell. She felt as though it was her duty now to help him, but prying would only work against the cause. Just like Ianto, he needed time; this had to be on his terms. The two men were so alike it was really amazing they were able to interact with one another at all.

It was in the closet that Tosh found comfort. Hanging in single file from the bar across the top were the suits. Shoulders lined up perfectly, pants draped evenly and ties organized by colour on a rack on the door. This was the sort of thing she had expected upon entering the apartment, the kind of structure that she had come to expect of her friend, and it made her feel better to know that even though they were locked away the suits were still stolidly present. Kneeling to get a better look she rooted through fine leather shoes and a polish kit for any sort of reading material she could find.

"I'm sorry," she heard Jack tell her softly from across the room.

Head buried in cloth she responded, "What for?"

"For unloading like that, you don't need to deal with my issues."

She turned awkwardly to look at him over her shoulder. He was watching her as he haphazardly folded a jacket that shouldn't have been folded like that at all. "It's alright," she reassured him, wondering where this sudden insecurity was coming from. "God knows you've dealt with enough of my problems. I'd say I owe you." She returned to her search; there were all sorts of things hidden back here.

"Thanks." She was pleased to hear the smile restored to his voice. "You're one of a kind, Tosh. Don't know what I'd do without you."

"All a part of the job description," she replied and- goodness, was that a guitar? "You know, I really didn't expect Ianto's flat to be like this at all."

"What did you expect?"

"I don't know. Something more modern? Tidier, certainly."

"Well, he doesn't really have a lot of time to clean up around here considering how much time he spends at the Hub cleaning up after us. I think he's done pretty well considering."

"I suppose that's true, he does spend a lot of time there, doesn't he." She laughed a little. "But that's mostly your fault isn't it?"

He laughed heartily. "We need to start being more discreet, you three know too much."

"Doesn't help that you forget to disable the security system most of the time. I've seen more than I want to from the camera footage. Aha!" Triumphantly, Tosh emerged from the closet laden with books that had been hidden behind a pile of folded bed sheets in the back. Dumping them on the bed she began to sort through them and was quickly disappointed by the selection. She huffed. "I wish he would spend more time collecting books than movies, there's nothing good here. At least, not for casual reading."

Jack reached over and picked up a few to read the titles. " _Birds of the British Isles, Hunting Dinosaurs._ No wonder these were buried at the back of the closet. Oh, _American UFO Sightings._ "

She sighed and looked around at the pile. "Well, he does claim to know everything, I guess he has to learn it from somewhere. These will do," she said, picking up a book of Stephen King short stories and a paperback that looked like it had been thumbed through quite a few times. "I know he keeps a few up in the tourist office for slow days, there's probably a better lot there."

She threw them into the suitcase on top of the clothes and after disappearing into a bathroom across the hall for toiletries Jack added them in and shut the case with a pleased flourish. "Done and done it," he declared, lifting it off the bed. "Come on, let's get out of here. Oh, and we need to stop off somewhere to get him something to eat, might as well get some lunch for ourselves too. I'm thinking burgers, but I'm open to suggestion."

It was another hour before they arrived back at the Hub, pleasantly full of fast food and happy to find that Gwen had already returned from her expedition as well. "My car could've been stolen, y'know," she said the moment Jack entered the Hub. Tosh smiled behind him. "That's a rough neighbourhood, who knows what could've happened to me."

"Yet here you are, safe and sound," Jack replied, giving her a grin. He passed the suitcase over to Tosh, who was already carrying a bag of cheeseburgers and chips, before strolling over to join Gwen and Owen at one of the computer stations. Tosh rolled her eyes and disappeared into the Vaults as they continued to talk. "How was Mr. Price, then?" Jack asked, leaning against the chair his newest employee was occupying. "Didn't give you too much trouble did he? Though I've heard his bark is worse than his bite."

"I should say not, he wasn't there," she answered. "His neighbor was, though. Next time, you get to do the house-calls."

"Not too friendly?"

"Far too friendly," she corrected with a disgusted shake of her head. "But he was helpful, I'll give him that. Says he hasn't seen Wilson Price in weeks and looking around the place I can bet you he won't be coming back."

"How so?"

"He's packed up all his things and, according to a quick search, hasn't paid his rent for the past month. It was only a matter of time before he scarpered off someplace else, but shouldn't be too long before we find him again." She reached into her purse and produced a plastic bag containing pill bottles. "These were the only things left that seemed personal. Probably forgot them in his rush."

Owen took the bag from her and studied the contents through the clear plastic. "Lexipro and Rozerem," he muttered with a raise of the eyebrows. "Sleeping pills and antidepressants. Could be important."

"Do they tell you anything?" Jack asked hopefully.

"Too soon to be sure," came the reply. "The test I've been waiting for should be done tomorrow, I'll give you some answers then. In the meantime, I hope you brought lunch because I am famished."

"Sorry," Jack shrugged. "Should've called if you wanted something, we didn't know." Owen groaned and slunk off for the autopsy bay. "You never call anymore!" Jack shouted after him, casting Gwen a wink. "How is our inmate, anyways?" he asked her.

She shrugged. "Haven't been to see him yet, it's too depressing down there. Poor love, can't imagine spending all day down there with the weevils. We did the get the blowfish out though, he's thankful for that."

"I'll bet," Jack said with a laugh. "I've been with those things going through withdrawal, almost as bad as Owen without his morning coffee."

"Sod off!" Owen's voice rang out.

They both laughed again and Jack pushed off from her chair. "I'd better get going, the Queen won't call herself."

"Aren't you going to see him?"

"I think Owen's made it pretty clear he doesn't want to see me."

Gwen gave him an odd look. "I meant Ianto."

He knew that, but somehow he didn't want to confront that at the moment. Things between the two of them, he and Ianto that is, had been strained recently, more than he had let on to Tosh in the apartment. It felt odd to have such friction in a relationship that had once gone so smoothly and without knowing where that friction came from he was loath to think about it. As it was, he had thought about it a great deal in the past few days, the whole month if he was being honest, but right now it had reached a point where he didn't want to touch it at all.

"No," he answered with a shake of the head and an uneasy smile. "He's eating right now and could probably use some rest. I'll check up on him later. That reminds me, conference this afternoon, four o'clock, let Tosh and Owen know. We need to go over what we know up to this point."

She nodded uncertainly, saying, "okay, see you then," before turning to her computer screen. She cast him a glance as he disappeared into his office and he hoped she wouldn't pry as she had a tendency to do.

As Tosh had said, Ianto just needed time so jack would give it to him. After all, Jack could use some time of his own and Torchwood didn't stop just for one member. There were things to get done, calls to make, forms to be filled and filed. Plenty to occupy the time it would take. He just hoped it wouldn't take long.

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A/N

Been a while, eh? I'm not entirely pleased with this chapter, but the story needs to get going and you lot have been waiting long enough. I always figured Ianto was a movie buff what with his Bond moments and the whole quoting movies when he thinks he's alone. What a cutie. Things have been rough lately, but questions will soon be answered. What will Owen find out in his test? What do the drugs have to do with any of it? Where is Mr. Price? Just you wait, it's only a matter of time. - LL

Thanks for the favs follows and reviews, they really help


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